Where the Lost Ones Go
by Aestivate
Summary: Ryou and Ruki are dragged to a world that Ryou is all too familiar. The past haunts him, as does the powers of evil that threaten the security of everything he, Ruki, and the Adventure Chosen love and must swear to protect. 0203xover, Ryuki, Takari.
1. The Day of Preparation

**Where the Lost Ones Go**

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By,

Aestivate

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Disclaimer: Digimon Adventure/Tamers are property of Toei animation, don't own, never did, only using characters/plots. Line from an e.e. cummings poem is also used in this; that's not mine either, also Edna St. Vincent Millay line too.

Author's Note: I have this uncanny inability to finish fics, but I actually have like, an outline that plans for ~ 8 chapters ahead, and a comprehensive story guide to where exactly where I want to take this fic. It might take a while, but I'm pretty sure I'll finish this (eventually). Originally, this fic was going to be highly Ryou/Ruki centric, but certain Adventure characters are going to have their own story arcs and whatnot, although not the importance of Ryou's. Yes, there's going to be a lot of emo Ryou, especially early on, but that's expected because the poor boy has had such a difficult past and what not. Naturally, his past is going to haunt him, but the past of the undefeated Adventure enemies are going to shadow the gang as well. Since this fic will be so obviously centered around certain Adventure characters, the primary pairings are probably going to be as follows: Ryuki (OBVIOUSLY) and Takari. Maybe some Kenyako, Wallsuke, or Kensuke (depending on my mood when I write future chapters), with Koumi, Sorato/Taiora mentioned in passing. But there are simply too many story elements I want to add and too many characters that I can't really put too much focus on pairings unless it's the central pairing or two characters that are going to be pretty pivotal to the plot. Hope you all enjoy this chapter, which serves the primary purpose of being one of a few set-up chapters (clearly) before the ball really gets rolling. There are also some light Japanese phrases to be used in context, but nothing is too difficult to understand, and harder phrases I will translate!And unfortunately, some things might have to be retconned. Don't worry, they're easy to figure out. And depending on the direction this fic goes, characters from series other than 01/02/03 may appear for short arcs or whatever.

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**Chapter One: The Day of Preparation**

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_She was always strong, no matter what. Exhaustively strong is the phrase that I always use to describe her. Gender lines, psychological lines, and digital lines never meant a thing to her. She is made up of lines and curves, beginning with the cool, piercing amethyst gaze, and ending with that distant, enigmatic beauty._

So I hear you sent a message_, I text. I want to see her that mask of indifference fall into her innocent insecurity; she was never good at not betraying her emotions. _Could it be because of our chance encounter?

_Almost instantly, the reply: _It had nothing to do with you. I had some important things to say to Renamon, and this is the only way I can do it, for now.

_I can see the faint hue on her cheeks, the shy, nervous smile, her head bowed as a strand of her sienna colored hair falls into her face; I see her, a light in the clouds in the starless Kyushu sky._ Good for you, Ruki.

_There's something about his personality that makes my blood boil, the refreshing _Sawayaka Kousen._ Everything about him is careless. He could care less about how he looks but his russet-colored hair is always spiked perfectly, the godforsaken devilish smile always pearly white. He is carelessly arrogant, carelessly tall, carelessly lean, carelessly good looking. Carelessly energetic, too. He drinks the praise from girls my age, even guys my age, always the Digimon poster boy. The king; and I can't help but scowl. I've since rescinded my title. He's no longer the awkward rival that stripped me of a victory. Back then, it wasn't just a game to him though, I could see that. I don't think it ever was._

_I don't understand why he continues to play that game, but it makes sense because he's always the same person; he never changes. It's hard enough for humans to change; that hardest for Ryou to. I watch him sometimes, under Takato and Jian's insistence, and the familiar glint of battle always lights his cobalt eyes the minute the battle begins. Sometimes I can't tell who is worse; him or his partner, Cyberdramon. _

_Renamon stands in the shadows behind me as I watch him take down yet another opponent, and again he reacts in the most familiar way possible. He really never does change, but I'm no longer interested, not that I'd had any in the first place. Another victory; another familiarity._

_I look fondly up at my partner, my best friend, the only one who understands me; hopefully she won't catch me staring. She is tall and sleek and beautiful; the full moon reflects silver in her fur. She is the perfect example of balance. What's shadowed is hidden, what is held in the light gleams. A perfect mixture of light and dark._

_It had only been a short while since Jian and his father and the rest of the Wild Bunch could return her to me, the message I'd sent her served as a road back home. I turn back to the screen where Ryou is being interviewed, and I struggle to admit it but I do anyway: He opened the way to that road for me, after I'd been too stubborn to open it myself.

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**I, who have died, am alive again today…**

**Now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened…**

_December 31, 2000. The air is frigid and stings my lungs when I take in deep breaths. My hotel in Ueno comes into view; hopefully I can get there quickly without the paparazzi on my tail. I walk quickly, turning up my collar to shield it from cold. I haven't done a single interview, and the girl I faced after an exhaustively long game looked too taciturn to do many interviews, either. The press would be restless. I almost felt bad; she was only like, 8 years old, but she wasn't the least bit gentle in our match. I had no idea who she was until today, but she surely gave me a run for my money. I'd heard that this girl might have the potential to match me in title, under the title of "queen." But it's a game. A battle, with opponents. Enemies. But a game nonetheless._

_December 31, 1999 was when it all began. Certainly a lot has happened within the course of a year; the new millennium cursing my fate. Four months-ish in this new world, now._

_The world I belong to now isn't much different from the world I left. The language is the same, the culture, most of its history, which makes sense. Divergences in histories hadn't begun until 60 some-odd years ago anyway. Time is a complicated thing. Space is a complicated thing. The universes are even more complicated concepts to grasp. I do not try and understand._

_Fighting is not. Complicated, I mean. I'd forgotten that. No need to continue fighting. _Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

_I thought I'd forgotten everything, but once this reality Realized for lack of a better word, I remembered. I thought I'd left all of that behind me, but some part of me got lost in the process._

_There is a fog that grows in thickness that numbs the cold as I keep my stride, and for some reason all the streetlights have gone out all at once. The busy street has grown quiet. All I can hear is my own breath. My shadow extends, from a relatively tall 12-year old to a giant whose height expands into millennia; into infinity. _

_The fog grows thicker for an instant and then vanishes, as Cyberdramon takes me with him, and I am born again. What's lost is now found._

December 31, 2005. The last day of the finals. The final moments of competition. The air in the tournament stadium was stale with anticipation and apprehension, and still as the audience waited in silent, bated breath. A platform of some sort sat suspended in midair on a thin metal support beam, with two competitors sitting opposite each other on a rectangular table.

The room had gone undergone a complete transformation from the start of the tourney until now; from an amicable competitive environment stemmed these final, crucial moments.

A battle fit for champions is what this competition was to be called. The crowd surrounded the spectacle in the circular dome. However, even with the geometry of the stadium, the crowed seemed to span endlessly, in all directions. Every pair of eyes was locked, every fist was clenched with whitening knuckles, and every agonizing sweat dropped dripped within these last few moments.

One of the competitors, the one who was obviously much younger, had dark hair and nervous eyes. He was thin and pale and had a sort of pinched look in his face. All of his clothes were rather large on him. His bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, and it was necessary for him to push his glasses up to his face as they slid down his nose every few seconds. This was probably due to the fact that he bowed his head and lifted his head, darting from his opponent's otherwise relaxed expression, the game board, the score, and his cards. The other competitor wore a lazy expression, dressed in tan denim and an orange turtleneck, definitely appropriate for the bitter winter outside, but not for the atmosphere of such heated competition. Despite this, he looked luxuriously relaxed.

Everyone wanted to see the _ou_, Akiyama Ryou-sama, fall. The king even after many long years, one of the heroes in the D-Reaper and Parasimon crises, the only Tamer of a _kanzentai_ Digimon, the illustrious Cyberdramon, the first and only defeater of Makino Ruki. He'd retired a while ago; at 17 there was no reason for him to continue humiliating opponents so much younger than he. Despite that, even with a disappearance, he enjoyed long years of being the very best, since he was about 12 or 13, appearing out of nowhere. Akiyama Ryou, the champion of champions.

Surprisingly enough, he agreed to enter one final tournament, after the request (begging) of the National Digimon Card Game Tournament Committee. The Tournament of the Gods, it was dubbed, comprising of only the world-elite, of the world's champion card came players. The audience was compromised of the world's entire Digimon otaku population.

And within the walls of this stadium, Ryou had bested most of his competition despite being out of practice, until this final moment. A curious expression graced his features fleetingly as he folded his cards together in his hand. He put his cards face down on the little cubicle, greeting his young, fresh-faced opponent with a wide, white grin. "Congratulations," he said warmly. "This was my loss." His expression betrayed the complete opposite of what it should have; there was a sparkle to his blue eyes. Shock on his opponent's face, and then the sound of not breathing: The sound of a room with thousands of people completely shocked out of air.

"I… I don't believe it!" said the announcer in shock. Realizing the silence, he regained as much composure as he could. Clearing his throat and adjusting his microphone, he said to the stunned audience, "13 year old Matsumoto Takeuchi from Chiba has defeated 17 year old Akiyama Ryou of Kyushu in the Digimon Tournament of Gods!"

Ryou took a deep breath, rising from the chair and going to shake his still paralyzed opponent. "Congratulations," he said again. "That was an impressive battle. I've never faced an opponent quite like you. Enjoy your new title, Matsumoto-kun!" He caught himself, shaking his head and the hand of Takeuchi briskly. "I'm sorry, Matsumoto-_ou!_" Ryou patted the poor kid on the back. _There. The baton has been passed. I've done all that I need to do to prepare.

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_The light seeks its shadow._

_That darkness only grows ever larger, searching for what casts it._

_You __**will **__return to the world of your birth, the world you abandoned, the one you thought you saved. It is funny that you, the random element, the one with the power to traverse dimensions, the one with power that I – we – cannot even comprehend, believed you could escape this power. But it defines you. And you have to live by that._

_I will make that certain._

Earlier that day, Ryou had the same nightmare again. The same beckoning call, the one that had haunted him for as long as he could remember, the one that was only the most vivid the night before.

Ryou woke up with a start, his body jerking as he did so. The first thing he did was glance at the clock. 6:00 a.m. Right, he had the championship final to compete in today, but that wasn't for a couple of hours. He was shirtless, as he usually was when he slept, but his body was covered with cold sweat. His sheets were damp as well. "Gross," he muttered, kicking away his sheets. He turned restlessly, trying to look for a dry spot on his bed. Realizing he could find none, he quickly gave up, his mind still reeling. He tried to lie still and go back to sleep, but the winter cold had seeped into the bedroom and he could no longer sleep without a shirt on nor could he without dry sheets. Sure, he could blame the cold on his trembling.

He hated nightmares. He hated that helpless feeling of knowing that you're dreaming, and the inability to wake yourself up, inevitably succumbing to witnessing tragedy, over and over again. He sat up in his bed, beginning the long waking process and maybe getting a shirt. He gingerly stepped over the futon where Monodramon was still sleeping, towards the bathroom.

Electrical impulses from his brain to the rest of his body stopped him from beginning a normal, daily routine. He looked around his room, which was mostly bare. Nothing on the desk except for a single, sealed white envelope. A single bed and a single futon, in which a purple dinosaur-like creature slept. A solitary backpack sitting in the corner, a change of clothes on top. No computer in its regular position, closed upon his desk. Which could only mean…

"Another year has passed. New Year's is tomorrow," he whispered to himself. He could skip his morning shower; there was still so much he had to do to prepare. He bent towards Monodramon and urged the little Digimon awake. "Monodramon, wake up."

Groggily, Monodramon rubbed his eyes gingerly, wary of the claws that studded his finger tips, and of the vestigial wings connected to his arms. "Ryou? What time is it?" Then: "Oh. Today."

"Exactly," said Ryou. "That means it's time to get up. The flight for Tokyo leaves in like, three hours." He took the change of clothes that he'd unconsciously lay out for himself the night before, and pulled on the pants and the turtleneck, finally relieved of cold. At last he completed his outfit with his signature red scarf.

"Good luck today, Ryou," said Monodramon, sitting up in the futon.

"You know I'm not in it to win," he said, hopping on one foot and jamming his other foot into a sock. Finally losing his balance, Ryou tripped and fell, sitting up instantly and sighing. "Quite the contrary, actually…" He shut his eyes, leaning his head against the wall.

"The same dream?"

"Wouldn't call it a dream. More like… a calling."

"From the other me?" said Monodramon, pressing his hand against his chest. "It might be. That's why you've done all this and more to prepare, isn't it? The other world – the other me – wants you back there."

"There _is_ no other you," said Ryou quickly. "There's just one Monodramon." _We made sure of that…_

Monodramon looked over at the solitary desk in the dark room. The white envelope stood out in lonely contrast. "I guess you couldn't tell him."

"Yeah, well. Ever since he took me in, he knew that. It was only a matter of time," said Ryou. His voice had dropped to a whisper. "Otou-san knew this was coming. If only I were more of a man, I'd be able to face him better. I just wish…" He trailed off, pulling out his blue D-Arc from his pocket and peering into the blank screen.

"I know," said Monodramon. "What about Guilmon and the others?"

"I can't," was Ryou's simple reply. He sauntered to Monodramon and petted the horn on his partner's head. He corrected himself, "Something tells me I shouldn't."

"Isn't that a little sad though?" whispered Monodramon sadly.

"I guess. But that's just fate."

_We'd learned a long time ago that what was predetermined could be changed. Katou Juri could probably tell you that the best of anyone. I already have Monodramon, and I'm not alone. I'd hoped so badly that when I chose this world I would never have to return there. An irreversible action. The point of no return._

_It is on this day that I remember the faces. The sacrifices. The battles._

_The betrayals…_

_Even after all this time, the memories are still so vivid.

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"Now to next order of business," said Ryou. His gut wrenched. Not much left. He knew that today was the day he would cease to exist in yet another world he called home, and so there was business to be attended to. So he carried a list, so he wouldn't forget, but mostly so he couldn't lose his resolve. Having a plan of action, things to do, seemed to make enduring easier, even though it wasn't. If he could get through all of this he could maybe feel less guilty. Even though it technically wasn't his fault. It would be his fault, however, if he once again disappeared without a trace and not a thing to prepare for it. But there was also the inevitability of his leaving.

Ryou faltered as soon as he read the uncrossed out "talk to otou-san" line, which in its stead had "wrote him a letter" written next to it in Ryou's messy, loopy hiragana. Speaking of guilt…

He imagined his "father" in this world, but could only a picture a forlorn face looking lost and worried. Ryou squeezed his eyes shut, crumpling the little piece of paper in his hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered to himself, over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you've done so much for me and yet… I can't even…" He ripped the piece of paper into shreds, and wished to god he had a lighter and could make the pieces burn. What he could do was scatter them, which he did. They were picked up by a cold wind blowing in from the north, and swirled up and dispersed in all directions. _All I know is fighting._

"No need for hesitation, Ryou," said Cyberdramon.

Cyberdramon was out of sight, but Ryou could still hear him. "After all, we'll be fighting a strong enemy."

_Right, a new enemy_, Ryou thought bitterly. _Really now. _"Anyway, Cyberdramon, I think we're pretty much finished. I wanted to eat some Guilmon bread before we left…" Ryou made a gesture towards the flying bits of paper around them. "That was the last thing on the list," he said. _But going to eat that Guilmon bread would entail seeing someone I don't want to leave._

A crackled sound shook Ryou out of his thoughts. _ "An upsetting loss to Akiyama-san at the Digimon Tournament of Gods!"_

Ryou gave a sad smile reflecting on whether or not that was the best course of action and caught himself when he overheard something. A television, coming from the electronics store. He pricked his ears at the term "Digimon." He casually wandered towards the store, tightening his red scarf around his face and jamming his pockets into his coat. It was beyond closing time, but the lights in the store were still on and if he loitered outside the view of the shopkeeper, it wouldn't look overtly suspicious.

"_There is talk that Akiyama-san doted on his opponent, and even conceded his title as soon as he conceded defeat! Still impressive for Akiyama-san to have made it this far, especially now that there are world-renowned champions that had scores much than he, and also for someone who has been in retirement for so long. What say you, the Digimon expert, Hiroyuki-san?"_

The new voice, undoubtedly Hiroyuki's, was saying, "While it may be true that it is a wonder that two Japanese people made the finals, I don't believe Akiyama-kun was at his top game this time around. There were a series of blunders he made at the endgame that made me seriously doubt his devotion to the game. It was almost as if his mind were somewhere else. There was a lack of focus that Akiyama-kun really showcased tonight. Perhaps if his opponent had been the ever elusive Makino Ruki-san, who was invited to participate but did not, the situation might be different than what it is now…"

The color on Akiyama Ryou's face completely drained from his face. That name… He pulled his Digivice from his pocket and read the digital time, 11:23 P.M. Why did her name, of all people, have to be mentioned? The girl he loved to tease, loved to rib. The person he had the uncanny feeling he'd miss the most, for some strange, inexplicable reason. Why was the world continuing to strike blows at his resolve? Just to make things harder? _Nothing should be too hard for the great, Legendary Tamer, Akiyama Ryou._ He managed a weak, bitter croak, something too feeble to be called a laugh.

Ryou peered again into his Digivice, which marked his location with a flashing dot and the location of someone else who was undoubtedly a comrade. He looked at it warily, unconsciously knowing who this dot signified. He was in that area of Shinjuku, after all.

He shouldn't. It would be too hard, requiring far much more strength than he could afford to muster or wanted to invest. And yet, robotically, automatically, beyond his control, his legs started to move in the direction of the flashing dot.

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On a quiet street in West Shinjuku, all the houses save for one had retired in preparation for the incoming year. Houses were swept from head to toe. Doors were shut, windows blocked, and paper on sliding doors had been changed long ago in order to block out the unusually bitterly cold winter and for the sake of superstition.

All of the houses on the street were particularly modern and none stood out except for the largest one, architecturally styled in likeness to the Edo period. On the concrete fence separating this house from the rest of the street was a silver sign, emblazoned with two artfully written kanji: 牧野. Makino.

13 year old Ruki and her partner Renamon had no idea they were the only ones awake on their entire street. She sat with her sienna-colored head bowed over her night desk, flipping through brochures. The only light in the room was the feeble lamp, which cast long shadows in her vast bedroom. Ruki had her long, wavy hair tied back, and she wore a red cotton nightgown. The yellow fox, Renamon, stood against the wall among these shadows, her arms crossed and her icy blue eyes glinting despite the absence of light. She looked intimidating, with the androgynous, always stoic expression.

"Maybe this secondary school would be best…" mused Ruki, flipping open a brightly colored brochure. It was a private school, quite like the one she was attending now, but closer to Jian and Takato. The private school she went to now was an all girls' school like she had attended in the past, but during her first year as a middle school student she hated it. "What do you think, Renamon?"

"Whatever you like," said Renamon coolly. "It's late, and you should really be getting to sleep."

"It's only like…. 11:30," protested Ruki. "And besides, I'm not done looking through these brochures. If I find a school I like that's near Takato, Jian, and Juri, then I can transfer there after spring break. If you're tired, Renamon, you should get some rest."

"It's not that but…" Renamon stopped abruptly, unfolding her arms, and lifting her head.

"What is it?"

"Someone seems to be at the door," said the fox.

"Who would be coming at this late hour?" demanded Ruki. "Renamon, go check."There was a slight shift in the air molecules in Ruki's bedroom, and Renamon had disappeared. An instant later, she reappeared.

"You'll get a kick out of this one," said Renamon, slightly bemused.

"What's that supposed to mean? Just tell me who it is!"

The doorbell rang. Ruki scowled and sat up abruptly, throwing on a sweater. "What an idiot! Mom and obaa-chan are sleeping! Who in the right mind would come here when it's this late anyway?" Irrationally angry, she stormed out of the house to the gate, trying her best to ignore the cold that was making her pimple in goosebumps. Renamon waited and watched silently from the roof. Whoever it was, they were going to get a piece of her mind for maybe waking her mother and grandmother up (models do not take kindly to getting waken up in the middle of the night), and for making her come outside in the freezing cold to get him or her to shut up. All this she thought and was about to say through gritted teeth.

Until, of course, she saw the person through the fence that was waiting. Someone with a killer smile. Really shiny teeth. In other words, the most refreshingly bright of personalities. "R..Ryou? What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Hey, Ruki."

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**_To be continued..._**

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_**Author's Note: Hopefully the changes in point of views/time frames weren't confusing! I tried to make them pretty clear...


	2. The Hour of Reckoning

**Where the Lost Ones Go

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By,

Aestivate

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**Chapter Two: The Hour of Reckoning**

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Silence, disbelief, shock. Ruki couldn't do anything but stare. What was Ryou doing upon her doorstep in the middle of the night on New Year's Eve?

And at once, snow began to fall. Large, white flakes descended from the overcast night sky in a gentle rhythm. A lone flake caught Ruki on her nose, which caused her to shiver from cold. She exhaled deeply, her own breath obscuring her vision. She had to break the silence in order to get answers. _What are you doing here? Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?_ But all she managed was "Why?"

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" asked Ryou, lifting an arm in a lazy greeting. "That's awfully impolite of you to just leave me standing here in the cold."

Indignation. "Excuse me?" blurted Ruki. "You come here in the twilight hours without so much as a warning and expect me not to be surprised? The only rude one here is you."

Ryou shook his head; in turn shaking away some of the snowflakes that threatened to de-spike his hair. He frowned. "That's no way to greet an old friend. And besides, you're shivering. It's no use arguing with me because otherwise you'll be stuck out here in the snow too. _And,_ maybe catch a cold," added Ryou with emphasis.

Ruki scowled. "Or, I could just go back inside and leave you out here," she retorted.

He winced, but smiled all the same, revealing his characteristic white, wide grin. "You could do that; it hadn't occurred to me. But the gentle, queen Ruki wouldn't do something like that, would she?" He looked at her pleadingly but mischievously, winking as he did so.

"Be quiet," she snapped, clearly already irritated. Her fingers were numb and the shivering was growing almost uncontrollable. If she could get inside faster, the better. The uncharacteristic temperatures of this year's winter didn't take too kindly to her thin nightgown. If it meant allowing Ryou to get his way, so be it. She pressed a button to her left in order to open the fence, and stepped aside, having given up. She gave a welcoming gesture, albeit begrudgingly and spitefully. Ryou grinned with victory and proceeded to walk past her inside. "Please, do take care and shut up," said Ruki warily. "If my mom or grandma wakes up or God forbid both…! they're going to have a lot of questions…" Ryou immediately relieved himself of his shoes, but clearly amused at Ruki's annoyance and request. She shut the door behind her with a sigh. "You still haven't answered my question."

"What was it again?" said Ryou. He put his forefinger on his chin and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't recall it having much more substance other than 'why.'" He then proceeded to make a big fuss that he should put his own shoes away, trying to cause pandemonium by tripping on his own _feet_, and _noisily_, at that."Whoops!"

Ruki looked on with horror, clamping her hands over her ears and still unable to drown out the sound of crashing and mischief. "Well," she muttered. "You're _enjoying_ this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?" said Ryou, clearly feigning innocence.

"Coming to my house in the middle of the night, being more loud and obnoxious than usual… And that's a whole freaking lot already!" tittered Ruki. She began to march towards him menacingly, wagging a finger at him as she did so. Her hospitality was already tried. "You know, you never change."

"Sorry, sorry," said Ryou, putting up his hands with mock defeat.

"And my question was," began Ruki, not dropping her cadence, "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Don't you think you should prepare some tea first?" said Ryou.

"THAT DOES IT!" yelled Ruki. "GET OUT!" She immediately regretted yelling as soon as she did. "Oh crap," she whispered breathlessly. "_Obaa-chan _and Mama are going to wake up…"

"You still call your mom 'Mama?' How cute!" exclaimed Ryou. "Why are you so scared of your mom and grandma waking up anyway?"

"You're _really_ annoying, do you know what?" said Ruki, using her full strength to push him towards the door. "And if you must know, it's because my mom has this huge photo shoot tomorrow. She can't afford to have bags or whatever under her eyes."

"Your mom has to work on New Year's Day?" asked Ryou, stopping suddenly. Ruki collided with him, her face crashing with his back. "That must be rough."

"Ouch… You should warn someone if you're going to do that!"

Ryou shrugged. "Hey, I was just trying to move out of my own volition."

"You are _so _lucky that I wasn't already sleeping. I hate being waken up, especially by tall, annoying guys with really shiny teeth."

"Well, you surely didn't need the beauty sleep."

Ruki recoiled, having lost again, but to such an offhanded comment. A blush crept up her neck. "Okay, so seriously. It's pretty obvious whatever I'm doing isn't going to work. Why are you here and why is it so hard for me to get you to leave?"

He said nothing, pulling out his D-Arc and freezing. He pocketed it again. "Well…" Ryou kept his back towards her and clenched his fist. His entire body seemed to be trembling, as if he were struggling with his next move or with what next to say.

Ruki bit her lip, having seen his expression change from sunny and shiny and _annoying_, to grim and heavy and depressed. She was alarmed at this sudden change; in an instant the Ryou before her morphed into a completely different person. "Hey…" said Ruki, beside herself. "What is it? Did anything happen?"

He turned around and suddenly appeared very tired to Ruki. She noticed the bags underneath the usually glimmering cobalt eyes, and how his shoulders sagged. The mischievous, teasing Ryou from seconds earlier was replaced by this ponderous one. "Is it too much to ask for that tea?" His voice sounded higher than usual. "Ruki-san," he added, but without relish and with genuineness that startled her. A second ago, the playful Ryou was making unreasonable demands, and now he was being strangely polite.

"Don't say that, it makes me nervous," said Ruki shakily, quite unsure of how she was supposed to respond.

He looked at her pleadingly. "Please," he requested, voice barely above an audible whisper.

"I want answers though," said Ruki, keeping her guard up. What had happened? What had she said that suddenly depressed him? _Was_ it even something she said? After all, he was turning up at her doorstep with a half hour until midnight with no reason spoken of quite yet.

"I promise," assured Ryou, crossing his heart. "Just… please."

She couldn't deny his request. He was begging her; she could see it in his eyes.

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The snow didn't seem to bother Renamon. She usually hated the stuff; it got stuck in her fur and drenched through to her skin. The snow had increased in intensity as Ruki and Ryou had gone inside. Renamon stood on the roof of the house, facing the garden that intersected the house. She was absolutely still, with her arms folded and her breath melting the surrounding snow.

She was facing Cyberdramon, who stood on the opposite side of the house, just as still, just as quiet.

"It is rather suspicious that you and your Tamer would appear before Ruki at such a random date and hour," said Renamon, finally speaking. "And I also hear that you and Ryou had disappeared into the Digital World _again_ for a period of time. What for, I could only wonder."

"Do not accuse, Renamon," said Cyberdramon coldly.

"I wasn't going to; Ryou's whims mean nothing to me. I am curious as to why you are here, of course. Your reputation, however, behooves you…" Renamon's voice trailed off as she let her arms fall to her sides.

"That is not of any concern to you," remarked Cyberdramon. "I'm sure as an old friend you can comprehend that."

Renamon's eyes widened. "I… Well… What does that imply?"

"A new enemy," said Cyberdramon. "Or an old one; I don't know which is best to characterize this enemy as."

* * *

It took a minute for them to be settled in the kitchen. It took three minutes for the water to boil, another for Ryou to decide what kind of tea he wanted (he picked the Chinese tea), and another for Ruki to poke around gingerly for mugs. 11:35 p.m., around; he couldn't bear to look.

He was running out of time.

Lost in thought, he probably wasted another few seconds as Ruki plopped a steaming mug before him. "Th-thanks…" said Ryou. He wrapped his fingers around the mug, peering into the dark liquid.

"Well, it's not poisoned. What's with you?" asked Ruki, dropping into the chair opposite him. She parted her hair, which was slightly damp and cold from its brief encounter in the snow.

Ryou suddenly dropped the strained expression in favor of his usual cheerfulness. "It smells great. How unexpectedly girly of you!"

A scowl; Ruki's usual reaction. "Well, excuse me. Would you like some cakes to go on top of it?"

He looked up at the ceiling, as if contemplating the possibility. "That does sound nice, thanks."

Ruki didn't move; instead, took a long drag from her tea cup and put the mug down. "Well, too bad because you're not getting anymore hospitality until you start answering my questions."

He flinched. "Yeah, I was getting to that." He, too, took a long sip. The warm liquid burned in his throat all the way down to his stomach and through to the rest of his body. He was restless; how could he possibly explain? It was enough for him to see her; maybe just to say goodbye. He hadn't expected any explanations to accompany that.

"Well?" Ruki raised an eyebrow; clearly already annoyed. "Is it really that difficult for you to answer why you appeared before me after god knows how long on New Year's Eve, almost midnight?"

Midnight. There was the trigger. How much time? How much time until he would regret not giving answers? The fake heat from the tea and the tension in the room caused him to sweat and suddenly Ryou didn't know what to do or say. For once all he wanted to do was run away. "Ruki…" he began, voice pained.

Her expression was soft, despite her earlier remarks betraying irritation. The dimly lit kitchen cast shadows on her face; but she held so much light. "Seriously, what is it?"

Ryou struggled with himself, gripping the handle of the mug with a ferocity that it was a wonder it didn't break. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened his mouth to speak. But everything he wanted to say was lost.

_My past has come back to haunt me. This will be the last time I will see you, ever. I will cross dimensions, back to a world I don't even belong in. I'm sorry I'm so bad at saying goodbye. I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to say it; that I'm not strong enough to not allow myself to be taken to the other side. I'm sorry I can't close my ears the calls of the world that I came from. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It would have been better if I didn't come at all; I'm not even sure why I did so I'm sorry I can't answer the question of 'why' I'm here. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. __**I am so sorry.**_

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" Ryou found himself repeating the apology. Over and over and over and over.

"For… what? Exactly. Besides almost waking up my mom and grandma, and being yourself…" Ruki stood up slowly, tentatively closing the gap between them. He was so much taller than she, but she took a white hand and put it on his shoulder anyway. He visibly relaxed but both of them were holding their breaths. "Ryou… Is it something you can't tell me? What happened?" She was being uncharacteristically gentle, but the poor boy looked like he needed it. He was seriously losing his marbles.

He exhaled slowly. Calm again. "I passed the baton today."

Alarmed, Ruki's eyes widened. That was extremely unexpected. If he was going to say anything, Ruki hadn't predicted something that vague. "Wha…?"

"As in… I lost." Still wasn't giving her much to work with.

She tried as hard as she could to put the pieces together in her head. _Oh. Right. There was supposed to be some sort of card tournament today that I was invited to but decided not to go to… That would be the most logical meaning of "I passed the baton" and I lost." Which would mean he usurped his title as King._ But of course, that meant… "You're all worked up because you lost a stupid card game?!" Ruki demanded. Okay, now she was pissed. Ryou could say some stupid, stupid things, but if this were the truth… Then, it would take the cake.

"I hadn't even _said_ that; don't jump to conclusions," reminded Ryou. But his manner of speaking was hollow. He faced her, with a grey hue to his tired blue eyes. He saw the digital kitchen clock from the corner of his eye; he had 10 minutes and that was all, provided the clock was correct. The hour of his passing was near, and there he sat defeated. No matter how hard he could try, nothing could hold him back. He peered at the half-finished mug of tea. Nothing should hold him back. "I wanted to say goodbye," he murmured, far below audible clarity.

"Sorry? You're muttering."

"I WANTED TO SAY GOODBYE!" he half-yelled.

This startled Ruki, her hand falling to her side. "Goodbye...?" Ryou wasn't making any sense. This highly emotional Ryou she didn't know. She was so confused. What the hell was going on?

Tears sprung to his eyes. He wasn't good at this, not good at this at all. All he knew were certain things; the only part of him that was easily distinguishable was his ability to fight. The sentimental things he struggled with; anything that had to deal with a past he did not care to remember he was defeated. Those things were confusing. Painful to think about. They put knots in his stomach so it was hard to breathe.

"In ten minutes, I will stop existing in this world," he said breathlessly.

Ruki wasn't sure how to make heads or tails of the comment. He was too tense, too apprehensive, too fervent to be joking with her or even to be saying offhanded things. How could he expect her to understand, if he was being so cryptic and so enigmatic about it? One vague notion after another. "I still don't get it," said Ruki exasperatedly.

"I know, and I'm sorry." Again with the apology. He lifted his head to face her, to look her properly in the eyes, amethyst orbs that retained light no matter how dark. In the poor lighting she was still elegant and lovely, a child nearing womanhood, curving delicately in all the right places.

In the past few minutes Ruki had felt all different kinds of alarm. Ryou's anxiety (about what, exactly?) was rubbing off on her. Nothing else could surprise her, although much more could confuse her. His eyes were so pained, and the silence so thick. Tears spilled from the corners, and again, Ruki was utterly bamboozled to how she should react. She was letting him be selfish. He wasn't giving her anything but pieces, not even enough to form puzzle pieces, surely not enough to form a complete picture or thought. She'd never seen Ryou struggle like this before, nor had she ever seen him show this much weakness. It startled her, surely, but everything about him tonight was startling. New Year's Eve. What was the significance of today? What was the significance of midnight?

And he'd used the term 'pass the baton' meaning he opted for himself to lose the card tournament. _I will stop existing in this world_. The sentence made her shiver. It was so cryptic.

The minutes continued to roll by. Sluggish. The silence continued. Ruki decided that if Ryou wasn't going to explain himself, then she would allow it. Once he was feeling better, maybe then could he elucidate the situation…

Without warning he took her hands in his, causing her to step backwards and blush. She gasped at the sudden gesture, but then he opened his mouth to speak: "I'm glad I met you," he said. There was high fervency in his voice. "And Jian and Takato and everyone else."

Taken aback by his comment, Ruki forgot that she was going to allow Ryou to take his time, and blurted out, "Are you going somewhere? Is that why you're freaking out? _What the hell is going on?"_

His body slackened, but he did not avert his gaze, and instead looked at her with a new intensity. So she did understand, at least partially. The gist. He was going away. He was struggling. He did not know how to explain himself, whether or not it would be worth it in the end. He hoped, silently prayed that the little he'd given her would be enough. It had to be enough.

Without warning, Ryou turned and ran, trying to wrench himself free from the atmosphere in the Makino kitchen. In a single swift motion somehow his shoes were on and the door was opened and he sprinted outside, to the cold, the snow, and fresh air. As he reached the fence he dropped to his knees, panting, gulping as much air of this world as he possible before the process of traversing dimensions could pull him in and erase his existence from here, once and for all.

A dark shadow leapt from the rooftops, to join his master, his Tamer. A yellow vixen teleported after the shadow; like a cat and mouse charade.

"Ryou! Ryou!" Ruki called after him. The gusting, bitterly cold wind stung her cheeks as she ran, and she could feel the weather seep through her slippers and nightgown, as they had before, but that didn't stop her from catching up to him. "Just what the fuck was that?!" she demanded, yelling over the wind. She wasn't one to normally color her speech with expletives despite her usual fiery and unreasonable temper, but this was certainly a justifiable instance. "What the hell is up with you?!"

She approached him closer, and closer still, as Cyberdramon gathered Ryou gingerly in his arms. Her pace faltered as she saw Cyberdramon swoop down, but she quickly gained her stride again as she saw Renamon materialize next to her. "Renamon!"

"Ruki! They're…" Renamon stopped mid-sentence, mid-stride. Ruki, as well, stood frozen.

Silence. Disbelief. Shock. Then… "RYOU! RYOU! RYOU! Renamon, anyone, do something!" And Ruki, who abandoned all former whims of quiet, began to scream.

Ryou, from his perch, could only stare. As Ruki's eyes widened, her expression changing from irritation and worry to fear and foreboding, his own vision was leaving him quickly, replaced by purple-black, a living purple-black, one that seemed to radiate darkness, blacker even than the snow-covered sky. The process had begun. Midnight.

And without even comprehending the slightest bit of the situation she could only think irrationally. She grabbed him, held on, and pulled.

He was being swallowed into that darkness, and he tried to open his mouth to speak, to get her to not come closer, to not worry, to remember him, anything, but he could not. Cyberdramon was silent as well. And something was drowning her screams out, but from his failing vision he could see her form his name, the word, desperately on her lips, over and over, but to no avail.

_Come home, Ryou, beloved._

_Come home. You don't belong here in the first place. Back to Odaiba, back to memories._

_Back to me._

And then these calls, louder, louder still, began to grow percussive, a tattoo, without rhythm and deafening.

_I beg of you, don't come any closer. Please…_

Ryou's body was entirely numb. Renamon was right next to Ruki, always the faithful partner, grabbing hold of Cyberdramon, who was surely feeling the same thing. With the last of his vision he could see Ruki on his arm, grabbing him, trying to take him away from that blind darkness, back to where he belonged.

_**But where do you belong, Akiyama Ryou?**_

_Please let go, please let go, please let go please go let please let go please let go please I beg let go please let go let go let go let go let go don't come with let go please…_

Weakness now. With numbness came paralysis. Cyberdramon, as well; the Digimon's usual vice grip had slackened, arms growing smaller, smaller, degenerating… Ryou's thoughts were slackening; he could no longer think nor move nor could he scarcely breathe.

With the last of his vision, as the darkness swallowed him completely, stealing what remained of his consciousness, he could see the desperation in her bright, beautiful, amethyst eyes… His own eyes slid closed, tears escaping from the corners…

_Please let go even though don't want to go please let me go please let go let go let go…_

_**God, what have I done?

* * *

**_

She remembered being sucked in, along with Renamon. Willpower prevented her from dying on the spot; no, this was not the way she was to die.

She was guided (misguided?) by eyes. She swam in their visions, they followed her, she ran but she couldn't escape them. Was this what he had been trying to run from?

Pain. Pain beyond excruciating, pain beyond any possible recognition. That was the darkness. Simple. Ruthless. Evil. Strangely, beautiful.

It consumed her.

* * *

_Ruki… Why didn't you let go?!

* * *

_

_**To be continued...**_


	3. Unweaving Ties

**Where the Lost Ones Go

* * *

**

By,

Aestivate

* * *

Author's Note: What the double update?! Well, this chapter and the next chapter are pretty much two halves of the same chapter, but together it's way too long. T_T I'm the type that likes some kind of uniformity, but for all intents and purposes this chapter and the next are basically halves of the same whole. Apologies in advance; these two chapters (and the next, in parts) are meant to serve as set-up chapters (which makes the overdue update fall kind of flat) to get the plot moving. Change of pace and scenery; these are the chapters where I attempt to connect Ryou and Ruki to the Adventure timeline… Yup. That's why the two main characters don't barely show up. And again, more apologies in advance, but there is a VERY important plot device that takes advantage of the sickeningly (quite literally, writing sick-Takeru is very fun and cute) sweet Takari that I have implemented here.

And uh, sorry again, (how many more excuses can I come up with here?), but I seriously needed to get all of the characters in order, so here goes…

I do promise one thing though, and that's more frequent updates, because after a bit more set-up, the plot really moves forward. Hopefully you readers will still be like, interested in the fic by then… Hahaha. (._.)

**

* * *

Chapter Three: Unweaving Ties

* * *

**

For once in its perennially grey history, the sky above the ocean opened. The clouds parted in yield of a blinding, white light, reflecting silver from the clouds as land met horizon.

There was something strange about this light. It was not from the sun, and it was not warm in any way. And from the center of this brilliance, bodies were falling.

"He's come, just as you predicted," remarked a low, cold voice. The voice did not betray any interest, merely the slightest bit of astonishment and disbelief. The source of sound was from an enormous and monstrous being, a being so large and colossal that it seemed to stand on top of the black sea. Its features were completely distorted by shadow, but the shadow covered and concealed the entire ocean. There was no iridescence on the water, as the ocean failed in its strain to reflect the dazzling ray of light that hit the shoreline.

"Indeed he has! As I knew he would," responded another voice confidently. This being was humanoid in figure, and was wrapped in an elaborately designed blood-red cloak that had slits for his spiked purple-black wings and created a mask for his eyes. This being was perched rather comfortably in the sky, with his wings outstretched and arms of some sort were folded over his chest.

"There are two human bodies and two Digimon bodies," observed the being from the ocean. "That one there is female." The colossal ocean being did not point, but the other one seemed to know whom he was referring to. "Who is she, a companion?"

One of the bodies stirred. "Even unconscious he still fights! He tries so hard… So admirable… I see; things have gotten very interesting now. As for the girl… I don't think it matters why he brought her, whoever she is…"

"No matter who she is, I want my reward."

"Patience, Dagomon," replied the other one snidely. There was no need to rush things. "We might have this chess piece, but that does not mean we have control of the entire board quite yet. We still need to take the other pieces. This one will just have to stay quiet until then."

The sea creature, Dagomon, could care less about this particular chess piece. His interest lay in something else. "My hospitality is tried, Daemon," replied Dagomon matter-of-factly.

"Understandably so, my residence has intruded on your ah… kingdom, for far too long," said Daemon. He gestured around the bleak, empty ocean.

"Daemon, do not turn away!"

Upon turning back to the beam of light, Daemon's eyes narrowed. The white had turned to a shimmering, warm encompassing gold, and was being quickly sucked back into the sky. "NO!" His cry reverberated across the Dark Ocean. "_Flame Inferno!" _With a wave of his wings, Daemon began to fly rapidly towards the break in the sky, extending his arms, a stream of chaotic flames erupting from his fingertips. His attack just barely managed to edge towards the break in the sky as the clouds closed up once more. "DAMN IT!" he roared. Once more his voice echoed through the emptiness, and the scenery was dark again once more.

Daemon turned to face Dagomon, who despite the absence of light, was still cloaked in darkness. "Huanglongmon," was all Daemon merely said.

"I see. So what does that do to our little chess game now?" said Dagomon bemusedly. "There's the little queen on the other side that still needs to be taken."

Daemon said not a word, and instead looked directly up at the section of the sky that had just closed. The silver lining had long since faded. The expected reaction was a fit of rage. Daemon's cloak covered his mouth, but through the slit in the mask his eyes seemed to grin eerily. "Nothing. And no matter, I nailed that pesky dragon."

"Even if you did, this still puts a dent in our plans if the sovereigns are on the boy's side," said Dagomon. There was little the monster could do from not sounding disappointed. Daemon's plans were helpful to both of them, which is why Dagomon had begrudgingly allowed Daemon to bide time at his ocean for so long. Daemon needed the facilities. Dagomon needed the means. It was a fragile relationship to say the least, but so far it had served them both well.

"A few minor adjustments, but otherwise we proceed as usual. And even if they are, Huanglongmon and his cronies are no match for our combined forces. As for the boy…" Daemon paused dramatically, sighing with pleasure. "He will come again, all in due time. But now that it is guaranteed, I suppose it is time to put the next step of action into place."

"Does that mean…?"

"Yes," said Daemon. "It does."

_You get your girl._

_And I get my wish._

_Checkmate.

* * *

_

The door banged open, the light switched on, and fourteen year-old Takaishi Takeru flinched at the sudden brightness. The blue glow from the computer monitor suddenly seemed to not be as bright, and he blinked rapidly to clear the spots that had appeared in his sapphire blue eyes, but to no avail. He shook his head and then leaned far back enough on his chair to see his upside down and indignant mother standing in the doorway.

"Takeru, what in the world are you doing awake?" demanded Takaishi Natsuko. She had her hands on her hips and a defiant motherly stare. She was fully dressed in business attire, and a small suitcase sat near her feet. "I was going to wake you up to tell you that I'm leaving… I didn't even think you'd still be awake… I know it's New Year's and you don't have school, but there is still no reason for you to be up right now…"

_Oh crap…_

Still feeling disoriented and even more so having stared at his mother upside down, he sat up slowly in the proper position. He swiveled his chair to greet his mother, and cleared his scratchy throat. "Sorry okaa-san," said Takeru sheepishly. Now to make up excuses. "I couldn't sleep…" True. "I was feeling too excited after the New Year's dinner we had with Sora-san, otou-san and 'nii-chan…" Also true, but not to as large of an extent. "And I had a muse burst and felt like working on my novel…" Half true. Takeru, although still quite out of it, was still able to finish with quite the flourish: "And I wanted to be wide awake so I can see you off properly…" The truth was, his mother's leaving to go on a business trip back to France hadn't even occurred to him that night, but the fleeting remembrance won him the opportunity to weed himself out of trouble.

It worked. "That's sweet." She didn't sound cross. Natsuko chuckled and grinned as she bent towards her son to give him a swift kiss. She ruffled his sandy blonde hair that was so representative of Takeru's grandfather's French side of the family, and squeezed him affectionately on the shoulder. She then stooped at Takeru's bedside and petted Patamon's sleeping form. The orange and cream colored hedgehog-like Digimon barely stirred. The big bat wing-like ears twitched. "Let's see... Hmm... à toute à l'heure, mon cher!"

"What does that mean?" inquired Takeru. Despite being part French, his own French was considerably lacking.

"It means, 'I'll see you later, dear,'" said Natsuko wistfully. She looked at her watch and cried in the French spirit, "Zut alors! I'm going to be late! Be good and there's plenty of food in the refrigerator! I love you, Takeru! Please sleep earlier!" She grabbed her suitcase and shut the door behind her as loudly as she'd entered the bedroom.

"Have a safe flight and trip, Okaa-san!" Takeru called after her. "Say 'Bonjour' to 'jii-chan and 'baa-chan for me!"

Takeru could hear a bit of rummaging and some more crashing noises, and then the slamming of the apartment door. Takeru was in wonderment of Patamon, who hadn't so much as stirred from his mother's antics. Natsuko hadn't shut his light off, but by this time Takeru was already well-adjusted. Dizziness made him realize that almost throughout the entire time his mother had been in his room, Takeru had been unknowingly holding his breath.

He sighed very deeply and got unsteadily to his feet to shut the light. His entire body felt heavy from exhaustion, but Takeru had found that for the past few days it had been very hard for him to fall asleep at night. He'd never had problems with sleep before; he'd always the one sleeping soundly while the rest of the world was worried about something or other. It was like that the first time from even before his and his brother's first adventures in the Digital World.

The thing that kept him awake these past few nights…

Takeru shook his head violently, trying to clear it. His head just banged back. He would not will himself to think about it. He couldn't. Shouldn't. As soon as it was dark again, Takeru's vision had to adjust once more. Normally light changes weren't such a big problem, but his eyes were particularly sensitive having not slept more than three hours every night since Christmas a week before. Also, he preferred working in the dark. It wasn't particularly good for his eyes, but he'd always felt that squinting at the computer screen gave him better focus on what was actually on the screen.

Takeru sighed again, plopping back down in his swivel chair, and dazedly stared at the monitor. The document was open, just like it had been just moments earlier. He tried to type some more, but soon gave up as he started to misspell some kanji. Takeru scrolled up a few pages and began to read. The novel that was to chronicle the story his friends had created about the Digital World, more than six years ago, on August 1, 1999. Odaiba Memorial Day.

When he first began the writing process, Takeru found himself having forgotten simple details – from Patamon's wrestling match with Elecmon, why Picodevimon had caused a fight with him and Patamon, among other things. Some segments had been left unwritten, so far. One of the struggles that Takeru had to deal with was the inability to write objectively, especially when writing about particularly difficult and embarrassing scenes. Of the people he consulted, however, they said that his prose was becoming more vivid and advanced.

Three years before, when he and the rest of his friends were in 5th grade, Takeru remembered the struggle against the Daemon Corps. How Daemon himself was cackling as Ichijouji Ken had almost lost himself again while banishing Daemon to Dagomon's Dark Ocean…

Takeru stopped scrolling. What was Daemon doing in Hikarigaoka that day, anyway? Takeru wracked his brains but didn't remember. Something was missing, and Takeru wasn't exactly sure what. It was like there was a blank in his memory. His eyes twitched. He was running on too little sleep. His head was still pounding, intensifying to an ache. It was too hard to think, so Takeru decided to call it a night. He scrolled the document once more to survey his progress.

He let his finger press the Page Up button for too long, and had scrolled to places in the document he'd written a very long time ago. Curiously, he scanned the passage. His tired eyes widened and in one instinctive motion, he closed the document and shut off his computer monitor.

The name jumped out at him, despite only being one kanji long, and seemed to be increased to the largest font size, bolded, underlined, and italicized. Of all the things he had promised himself he wasn't going to think about…

Even though the screen was closed, Takeru could still pinpoint the exact location where the name was, could still see it when the screen flashed. Hikari.

The cool darkness reminded him how tired he was, how much his head ached, and that he had to wake up in just five hours to start getting ready. Takeru lifted himself groggily away from his computer desk and fell face first onto his bed. Sleep was not instantaneous, and despite his sheer exhaustion, was still late in coming. The tiredness of the last few days was taking its obvious toll.

"Give it time," Takeru's brother, Ishida Yamato, had said after Takeru had come to him for advice. Since Christmas he'd barely seen anyone except for his older brother, mother, Patamon, and fleetingly, Hida Iori and Inoue Miyako as they'd passed each other in the elevator.

His conscious mind was too busy being plagued, tormented by thoughts of Yagami Hikari.

* * *

The first time he told he loved her, she laughed playfully and responded earnestly that she loved him too.

_In a different way, Hikari-chan._

The second time he told her he loved her was Christmas Day, after they had exchanged gifts. She asked him what he meant by it.

_I mean by __**that**__ way, Hikari-chan._

That was when he told her he loved her for the third time.

_It was then when she finally listened. And realized._

When he leaned in to kiss her, she shied away from him, blushing, embarrassed. She looked stricken, and sputtered before she could speak.

_I'm sorry, Takeru-kun, _she'd said.

She had gone. He stood alone, looking like a fool. And his lips, after barely touching hers, still tingled. His mouth still strained to be near hers.

* * *

Troubled sleep came a little after dawn, and he could enjoy maybe two or three hours before the alarm clock signaled for him to rise. Takeru groaned audibly upon hearing it. He kept his eyes shut against the morning sun; even from behind his eyelids the light stung. He fumbled clumsily to turn off the alarm clock without moving from his perch.

Giving up after the third try, in a swift, irritated motion he smacked the alarm clock, the force causing it to fall off the nightstand onto the floor. He made no move to put it back, and he fell back onto the pillow. His headache from a few hours before hadn't left him. His stomach lurched and a wave of nausea hit him as soon as he'd realized that his face met cold sweat.

He turned to his side away from the sun, eyes opened at last, and met Patamon's groggy stare. "Ohayoooo, Takeru," greeted the little Digimon with a huge yawn.

"Good morning," Takeru echoed, affectionately rubbing Patamon's ear. His voice sounded low and hoarse, and with a pang, Takeru realized that his throat was rather sore..

"Did you sleep late again?" asked Patamon, sitting up slowly.

"Yeah," admitted Takeru, biting his lip.

To his surprise, Patamon did not respond with admonishment, but with a hopeful curiosity. "You were working on the novel when I fell asleep last night, right? Does that mean you weren't thinking about…?" Patamon mouthed the word. "_Hikari?"_

Takeru groaned again, but did not respond as Patamon looked on worriedly. Patamon did know him best after all. It was natural for his Digimon partner to be so perceptive about his mental state. The truth was, the night before he had only been working on his novel as to not think of Hikari, and what had happened that Christmas day several days before. Sleep had become his enemy because he was fretting. What scared him wasn't the possibility that she wouldn't return his feelings. No matter what he would honor his wishes. What scared him was the possibility that his admittance had created a rift in their friendship. He quietly respected her privacy. Their practice of daily D-Terminal e-mails had ceased after Christmas, and he made no move to send her one and it was clear that she wasn't about to send him one either. On those nights he stayed awake he considered the 'what-if' scenarios, wondered about what he was going to do now, and felt the guilt that he was the one that screwed up their precious friendship. In his days of isolation Takeru did mindless things, like obsessively clean his room and then some. He also worked on his novel of course, and every so often he'd return to writing passages that were always a struggle for him to pen, like when Angemon had been killed by Devimon, when Takeru fought with the Digimon Kaiser, and when Hikari had been taken to Dagomon's ocean…

"Takeru…? Takeru! Takeru, are you listening?" Takeru snapped out of his reverie as soon as he saw Patamon floating above him.

"Oh what? Yes I… a… ah… CHOO!" His sentence was caught off with a sneeze. The force of it made his head hurt worse. The itch in his throat caused him to cough.

"Gesundheit!" responded Patamon immediately. "You okay? You look really pale," said Patamon, looking alarmed. He reached to feel Takeru's forehead. "Pretty hot!" He exclaimed. "Perhaps a cold from staying up late all these nights…?" A valid explanation for why Takeru felt so queer and perfectly logical because he hadn't exactly been taking care of himself lately.

"I'm okay, seriously." Takeru gently swatted Patamon away. He was right, of course, but there wasn't anything either of them could do about it. Takeru rose unsteadily to his feet, reaching for his nightstand for support and a tissue. As soon as he'd done so his stomach lurched again, and he was hit with vertigo.

"Don't you have plans today?" asked Patamon worriedly, wrapping Takeru's free hand in his tiny black palms. Oh right, the reason Takeru had to wake up relatively early was because he and the others were going to pick Wallace up from the airport, and spend the day celebrating the New Year. "You should cancel them… Your body doesn't look like it can hold up! It's cold out too!"

"I'm fine, Patamon," said Takeru hoarsely. The words were coming out of him automatically. His head felt light but his body felt heavy. "Stop worrying. Besides, I promised the others I would go with them to pick Wallace-kun up. It's been a long time since I've seen him, anyway…" The unspoken words hung heavily in the air. _This will be the first time I'll be seeing Hikari-chan since the… ah… incident._ He sneezed again. Of course he was sick. After ruining his relationship with his best friend, after being tormented by thoughts of her, it seemed like the natural response for his body to fail on the first day he would have seen her in a week.

Ignoring Patamon's pleas and protests of Takeru getting back into bed, Takeru shuffled into the bathroom to shower. He would have liked to get back into bed and sleep. For the first time in a long time he could fall asleep on the spot if he wanted to.

He turned the knobs of the shower to the maximum heat, and stood under the hot jets. He was hoping the steaming water would help him relax, and it did to a degree. His sinuses certainly cleared a little and the heat felt nice, but soon the steam was making him more dizzy and sleepy. He shut his eyes and leaned against the shower wall, letting the bathroom steam up even more.

It dawned on him that he'd indeed promised Hikari that he would accompany her to the airport, and how they'd agreed that he would pick her up and then they'd head over there together… Miyako had to work at the store for a while so she would be late, and Iori would be enjoying a pre-New Year kendo lesson with his grandfather… And as far as he could recall, Daisuke had spent the night in Tamachi with Ken…

"Maybe I should just stay home," whispered Takeru aloud, his blue eyes fluttering open.

Lying in bed and sleeping away the fever and dizziness and Patamon hovering hover him with tissues, lozenges, and cool cloths for his forehead sounded like a good idea. But at the same time, it seemed kind of lonely. After all, his mother had gone on that business trip to France just a few hours before and she was sorry that she couldn't welcome the New Year with him but this was a really urgent business message and yes, yes of course he understood… He tried to clear his throat more of the scratchiness that plagued it, but the aggravation caused him to wince and cough and his throat to hurt even more.

The truth was, Takeru wasn't sure if he _could_ hold up on an entire day with the rest of the gang, namely Hikari. The cold wouldn't have bothered him so much if he hadn't felt so feverish, exhausted, and dazed. His distress with Hikari just had to manifest itself in the worst of any possibly ways – physical illness, and certainly not a normal cold for that matter.

He sighed. Even if his body was upright, the rest of his life was completely the opposite of balanced. His relationship with his best friend was strained, he didn't know how to talk to her, he wasn't sure if he should talk to her, and at the same time he wanted to because he was still truly in love with her. He always had been.

Stepping out of the shower, Takeru grabbed a towel from the bathroom and proceeded to look at himself from the mirror. Even his reflection looked dazed, and the usual sapphire color of his eyes seemed to be duller than usual. Water trickled from his blonde hair down to his neck, causing a shiver to run through his spine. The flush in his cheeks was certainly not just because of the shower. His entire body ached and became covered with gooseflesh as soon as he stepped out of the steaming bathroom back into his bedroom.

"Takeru, will you stay home, please?" Patamon, still on the bed, was begging now.

Still ignoring Patamon, Takeru slipped into jeans and a long-sleeved green polo. He went into the spotless kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. He wasn't hungry, quite the contrary, but knew he had to eat if he wanted to take any medicine. There first thing he saw was a plate of rice balls. He pulled one out and unwrapped it, unusually cross at himself for accidentally ripping the seaweed. He took a single bite and his stomach flopped. He put the rice ball back onto the rack and shut the fridge. There was no reason to force himself to eat if eating made him that nauseous, and if he did he wouldn't be able to take any medicine anyway.

His eyes unfocused, Takeru peered at the oven clock and seemed to stare for a long time when the time of 9:34 a.m. finally registered. From his pocket, his D-Terminal beeped.

His heart began to beat extremely quickly. Originally, he was supposed to meet with Hikari in half an hour, where they would walk together to meet the others in the subway. He held his breath as he looked at the screen. "NEW MAIL FROM… YAGAMI HIKARI" He pressed the button to open the e-mail, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

"Takeru-kun, are we still going to meet up and walk together? I will understand if you don't want to… Hikari."

The e-mail made him dizzy with happiness, and also the fact that she was the one to send him something first. He leaned against the wall and sank into a sitting position, his knees drawn up to his chest. "Of course, Hikari-chan. I'll pick you up at 11:00… Takeru."

He quickly got to his feet to get ready to leave and was attacked with lightheadedness and coughing. After his vision cleared and his fit subsided, he cursed himself for forgetting his illness. He popped back into the bathroom for a surgical mask, and tied it around his face. "P..Patamon!" he called, voice still muffled. He spoke louder than he dared, which hurt his throat.

Patamon flew into the bathroom looking hopeful. "Are you finally going to listen to me and stay home?"

"On the contrary," responded Takeru. He still felt lightheaded and slightly giddy at the same time. "I was going to tell you that I'm going to pick Hikari up now…"

"Hikari?" sputtered Patamon incredulously. With Takeru's constant moping that was extremely unexpected, but deflective. That still didn't take away from Takeru's flu. "You're being stubborn. I know you want to see Hikari and the others but no one's going to appreciate you being reckless."

Takeru bit his lip. The dejected and worried look on Patamon's face made Takeru genuinely feel guilty. The giddiness form the earlier prospect disappeared, and reality set in again. The fact was, he did feel awful, and even if he was with Hikari it would still be extremely awkward and he wouldn't know what to say. Hikari was also the type of person that would feel guilty if she caused other people's distress, and there was the worst case scenario of Hikari blaming herself even though it really was Takeru's fault…

"_Mou, _Takeru! You don't listen to me…" Patamon stopped hovering and flew directly into his partner's arms. "If you're going to stubborn, then I will be too. I'm worried, so I'm going to come with you."

Takeru smiled fondly down at Patamon, who was quite warm and cuddly against his chest. "Thank you for worrying about me," said Takeru earnestly. "It means a lot." And it did.

He bundled himself up thickly, throwing a hooded jacket lined with fleece over his polo, and wrapping a scarf around his neck. Even with the added layers, Takeru still braced himself from the cold outside. White, powdery snow covered the ledge of the balcony, and was whipped by the wind that greeted both Patamon and Takeru as Takeru shut the door behind them. The wind made them both shiver, and the sun reflected over the snow stung Takeru's eyes. His warm breath froze as soon as it dispersed in the frigid air.

"It's freezing," said Takeru, trying his hardest to gain his composure as his teeth chattered.

"When did it snow?" Patamon wondered aloud. "The cold must be worse for you since you're sick…" Patamon was pushed slightly as his wings caught turbulence. The unusually cold Japanese winter weather was even too much for the little Digimon, who sought refuge in the inside of Takeru's jacket, made even warmer by the boy's fever.

"Just a bit," said Takeru through clenched teeth. The inside of the mark was slightly damp due to his moist breath, and combined with the freezing weather, felt strange against his chin. He removed the mask and jammed it and his quickly numbing hands into his pockets.

"By the way," said Patamon, voice muffled from the inside of the jacket, "Have you decided what you were going to say? To…" Patamon didn't need to finish the sentence.

Takeru opened his mouth to speak, but his newly exposed and very sore throat caught the air and he coughed instead. He didn't know how to respond. From when he received the e-mail from Hikari until now he had been acting instinctively, kind of giddily. Of course he wanted to see her, to talk to her. But he didn't know how exactly he was to handle himself once he saw her, spoke to her. What he would say, what she would say. And the guilt settled in again, the guilt that maybe Takeru had been too forward with his feelings, that if any part of his current, precious relationship with Hikari was ruined, it would entirely be his fault. Patamon's honest, curious question and the magnitude of his flu reminded him of this predicament, of his doubts. "I don't know," he finally answered. It was all too much. His head banged with confusion and pain.

He had half a mind to turn around to go back home and take up Patamon's suggestion of bed rest. Takeru could feel the heat on his face, but his entire body was so chilled it trembled. His legs were automatically moving, towards Hikari's house, mindlessly following a route he was so familiar with. It felt ominous, foreboding. He was headed directly for change, though neither mentally nor physically prepared for it.

But as he turned the corner, it was the point of no return. His pace dropped dramatically, as he quickly became overwhelmed by self-doubt and over thinking. As he walked the cold penetrated completely through his clothing, leaving him wrapped in nothing except for his fear.

* * *

Takeru was late.

Takeru was never late, and yet he was late. Twenty minutes, in fact.

Yagami Hikari restlessly paced the length of her apartment. Several times she stopped in front of the mirror several times to comb through her cropped auburn hair, smooth out her dress, check the eye makeup that lined her wide, ruby eyes, among other things. On one hand she was apprehensive about seeing him, but not seeing him made her nervous as well.

"What's taking him so long?"

Hikari hadn't even realized she'd spoken aloud until her brother, busy downing a carton of milk in the kitchen, spoke up, "It's not like you two are going out on a date or anything; aren't you and Takeru meeting up with Daisuke-tachi to pick up that American friend of yours from the airport?" The latter half of the question she did not hear. She was silently thankful for the fact that her back was turned to her brother, so he could not see the blush that was crawling up her neck after he said the word "date." Hikari could not blame her so very painfully obviously oblivious brother, because she had not mentioned at all what had transpired between her and Takeru the week before. Even so, it was highly uncharacteristic for him to not be on time. Something must have happened, or… This apprehension overpowered the _other_ apprehension, but once she thought about it they were about equal.

Her D-Terminal beeped from inside her purse. "That must be Takeru-kun!" she exclaimed. She bit her lip, her hand freezing over the flap of the purse. She was inexplicably irritated when she saw the e-mail was from Daisuke.

"So is it from Takeru?" asked Taichi curiously.

"No," said Hikari, unable to mask the slight disappointment. At the same time she was relieved, which made the growing dread in her stomach knot. "It's from Daisuke-kun," she said, scanning the e-mail. "It says, 'Hikari-chan, Ken and I will just meet you and the others directly at the airport. –Daisuke."

Another beep from a D-Terminal made Hikari flutter with excitement, which quickly fell when she realized that she was holding her own D-Terminal, and it could not have been anyone else but her brother's. "Sorry about that," said Taichi, echoing her thoughts, "This one's mine; from Koushiro. He wants me to go over his house, or something."

"It's not like Takeru to be late, is it?" came a new voice. Tailmon exited from Taichi and Hikari's shared bedroom, padding along on all fours.

"No, it's not…" As Hikari's voice trailed off, the doorbell rang. "It's him!" she half-shouted, relieved. The other kind of apprehension stirred in her stomach again as she made her way towards the door. She knew that once she opened it, the boy-Takeru that she had grown up with, grown to love as her best friend, would not be there any longer. She chewed on her bottom lip, her entire mouth inexplicably tingling just as it had from when he kissed her. She blinked hard as she pulled open the door. She stammered, "H-Happy New Year, Takeru-kun!"

He did not respond instantly; Hikari had heard coughing as she was drawing closer, and the culprit was indeed Takeru. Goosebumps rose on her arms, but she still waited patiently as the fit finished. On closer inspection it was pretty clear Takeru was sick; he had dark circles under his glazed eyes, was rather pale under than pink spots on his cheeks, and the way he carried himself was quite unlike the usual confidence and cheerfulness. "Happy New Year, Hikari-chan," he greeted warmly, though his voice much lower and quieter than usual. He was forcing cheerfulness, but it looked like it was exhausting him.

_Oh, poor thing, he's sick._ Worry for his whereabouts evaporated and then changed to worry about his wellbeing. And the fact that Takeru was standing inches in front of her. She realized she'd been staring into space for several agonizing minutes before she nervously stood out of the way. "Come inside out of the cold," she said with a smile, a little too tense, a little too quickly.

"Ojamashimasu," said Takeru upon entering and removing his shoes and his hat, not unlike the usual polite Takeru.

"Happy New Year!" cried the lump in Takeru's jacket, whom Hikari took to be Patamon. She was right, as Patamon extricated himself free. Hikari took Takeru's jacket, slightly unnerved at the drawn look on her best friend's face.

Taichi, who didn't budge from his perch on the kitchen table, raised a hand in greeting. "Yo, Takeru! Long time no see and you're usually here everyday…" As Takeru came into view, Taichi added, "Oh, you've been sick?"

"Happy New Year, Taichi-san," said Takeru. "Well, not really…Just busy…"

"He woke up with a fever this morning," piped up Patamon, who was busy stretching his ears.

"Patamon…" The Yagami apartment was clearly much warmer outside, and the sudden change in temperature made Takeru feel slightly uncomfortable and dizzy. He took an offered spot opposite Taichi at the kitchen table.

"A fever?" gasped Hikari, finishing with Takeru's jacket and joining her brother and Takeru at the table.

"It's no big deal," said Takeru, but his body language said otherwise. He was leaning his head on his arm, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

"Busy with what?" pressed Taichi, in his obliviousness and curiosity.

Takeru caught Hikari's eye for the first time, and said, "Nothing really. My mom went on a business trip to France today; she's taking a couple days extra for a vacation. She deserves it… I saw my brother and Sora-san and my dad for dinner a few days ago… Mostly I've been up late, working on the novel and thinking…"

"Takeru, did you take any medicine?" asked Hikari timidly, addressing him directly. She knew what he was talking about with the last bit, but tried to purposely detract.

"I was going to, but…" Even though he was speaking coherently, Takeru felt as if words were just coming out of him. His eyes were closed and he was sitting, but he still felt unsteady.

"That's no good!" she exclaimed, cutting in. "We'll be out all day today… Not taking any medicine and not getting any rest isn't going to be good for your health…"

"That's exactly what I said," said Patamon.

"Hikari-chan, I watched Furuba with you, remember? Even though some people die from colds, it's highly unlikely that an athletic, perfectly healthy teenager is going to…"

"Did you eat at least?" said Taichi. Takeru was like a little brother to him, and naturally he was concerned for the younger boy's health.

"Felt sick when I tried to," mumbled Takeru.

Hikari stood up abruptly. "Here, there's some custard I made in the fridge… You should eat a little, and we have medicine so you can take that afterward…"

Takeru sat up, blinking, eyes refocusing. "No, it's alright, I'm not hungry anyway."

"Still you have to…"

He cut her off. "No, seriously," he said, voice unusually cold. All the doubts he had while walking to the Yagami apartment he did not express on his face. Actually, as soon as he laid eyes on Hikari, those doubts evaporated into an emotion that was pretty similar to anger.

It was like a slap to the face. Hikari's subconscious was actually testing Takeru, and he didn't pass. He always politely took any foodstuff that she made, ate it politely without complain if it was bad, and with praise if it was good. The thing was, even though he had a valid reason for not taking the food, Hikari was still upset. She stayed facing the refrigerator, but not for long because her shoulders began to tremble. "Alright then," she said in a low voice. "In any rate, we should get going."

Keeping her face hidden, Hikari walked past both Takeru and her brother towards the door.

Takeru rose stiffly, gave a small nod to Taichi and followed Hikari to put his shoes on. Patamon and Tailmon, who had been conversing underneath the table, followed their partners.

They walked without speaking, an awkward silence and an awkward distance between them. Hikari was careful to keep her eyes averted, and Takeru was determined to do the same.

* * *

_**To be continued, right where this left off (haha)…**_


	4. An Ominous Wind Blows in from the West

**Where the Lost Ones Go

* * *

**

By,

Aestivate

* * *

Author's Note: By the way, canonical (Sorato, Kenyako) and half-canonical (Koumi, Takari) pairings are more easy to deal with, so if any other pairings get the spotlight (other than Ryuki and Takari of course), these are probably the ones I'm most likely going to go with.

* * *

**Chapter Four: An Ominous Wind Blows in from the West

* * *

**

"So…ano…" said Hikari speaking at last.

Takeru echoed, "So… ah… eto.…" He stopped suddenly, looked towards the sky, and sneezed. "Ha… Hatchoo!"

"Sounds like you're really having trouble…" remarked Hikari, as she saw Takeru remove tissues from his jacket pocket. She didn't just mean about the sickness.

"ACHOO!" Takeru sneezed again. "I suppose," he said dryly.

They lapsed again into a brief silence. "So…" Hikari repeated, determined to cut away some tension. "How… are you?" She paused, knowing the foolishness of her question. Takeru was obviously unwell. "I meant… Ano…" She trailed off again, unsure of how to finish her sentence.

"I've been better… A little light-headed, but okay." He knew what she meant; he was just giving the obvious answer while waiting for her to say what she wanted to say outright. When she wouldn't, again there was that slight irritation, that bit of anger. She was trying to dance around the inevitable conversation, merely skating around the delicate subject.

"From… Before…" She was just sputtering now, spitting out disjointed words. "About…" Pause. "Well, I…"

"What is it you want to say?" His voice didn't betray any irritation, any annoyance, but patience. What Hikari could always count on Takeru for was patience. The sultry quality due to his hoarse voice seemed to make the request for knowledge all the more sincere.

"Hikari-chan, Takeru-kun!"

"Hikari-san, Takeru-san!"

Two excited, energetic voices came from a long distance away. From behind them, Hikari and Takeru could hear fast-paced footsteps that could only belong to Inoue Miyako and Hida Iori running towards them.

Before Miyako and Iori arrived close enough, however, Takeru faced Hikari, looking her full in the eyes, the first time since they'd met up. He did not say "Well?" but still this action prompted her to respond.

She took a step back. "I… uh… Never mind. It doesn't matter."

The words echoed in Takeru's ears. He replied almost caustically, clearly hurt. "I… Okay. Sorry for having feelings for you then." _What are you running from? It's just me, Hikari-chan. _ She was still deflecting, still avoiding the subject. He was a little bit more forceful, enough for Hikari to retreat back into timidity. She was clearly uncomfortable in his presence.

She sighed deeply, her breath creating a cloud in front of her face, obscuring her vision. Hikari was taken back to the secluded room, where she had taken Takeru seriously when he said he was in love with her, for the third time, when the boy became someone she did not recognize, when the shock of his sincerity permitted his lips to touch hers… She regretted the words as soon as she said them, but she said them nonetheless: "What's happened to us?"

Curiously, his expression changed. Everything that Takeru had doubted came back at once with the loaded question. A rift had been formed, she didn't feel the same way, and he really was stupid, stupid, he really did screw up. She was detracting, digressing, deflecting because they both knew he screwed up, and yet he was silently angry at himself, at Hikari, just inexplicably, mysteriously angry. He was going to talk, but Miyako and Iori finally caught up with them.

Hikari instantly dropped the insecure front she had just displayed and put on a usual, radiantly cheerful smile. "I'm so glad you guys are here," she said grinning.

_Saved by the bell, _thought Takeru bitterly. He rubbed his weary eyes, and he too, put on a merrier albeit tired front, as he greeted his two close friends and exchanged New Year greetings. Their Digimon, Upamon and Poromon, flew from their partners' laden arms and joined their comrades.

Miyako and Iori surveyed them both closely, and exchanged knowing glances. They knew when their Jogress partners were hiding something; it was just a matter of whether or not they should be involved. Iori, respectful and mature for his 12 years, usually always kept quiet, while 15-year old Miyako, quite the opposite personality, was tactful when she wanted to be.

As to prove that tact, she grabbed the unsuspecting Hikari and linked arms with her, the two girls walking slightly ahead of the two guys.

"And so this is what Ken-kun and I were doing after the onsen…" Miyako was saying.

"Takeru-san, you seem unwell," stated the always-observant Iori. Hopefully it was something physical and nothing more.

"It's nothing, really, just a little fever, not much more than that…" said Takeru distractedly, pointedly staring at the laughing, glowing Hikari in front of them. He turned down to his side and faced Iori. "There's no one at home anyway, and I hate being cooped up all alone. And they say that the best medicine is friends' laughter, right?" laughed Takeru sheepishly.

Iori did not keep his forest green eyes idle at all during the idle walk. If something could happen between Hikari and Takeru, then he knew that the world was nearing its apocalypse. What would soon transpire was the accuracy of Iori's statement.

* * *

On the subway, Takeru and Hikari sat on opposite ends of the seat bench that the quartet claimed for its own. Each gave no indication that any of their conversations had been anything except for the most cordial of natures, but their friends of course knew better. None of the four said much; even Miyako and Iori felt the enormity of the tense atmosphere, sandwiched in the middle of it all.

Miyako, always the ice breaker, kept to the idle chatter. "So where do you think we should take Wallace-kun for dinner tonight?"

"Are you even sure he's going to want to come, Miyako-san? He's going to be pretty jet-lag," said Iori, always the voice of reason.

"Now that you mention it, Daisuke-kun said this was Wallace-kun's first trip overseas," said Hikari.

"You wouldn't think that, due to all of the hitchhiking he does," remarked Takeru, reminiscing to how the group had first met Wallace.

"It'll be Wallace-san's first trip to the Digital World, too, when we end up going as a group," added Iori.

"You guys are all digressing!" exclaimed Miyako. "We have to figure out where we're going to eat dinner… Do you think he'll want to eat at that pretty little Western restaurant near Daisuke's place?"

"Miyako-san, what exactly is the point of going East to eat Western food?" asked Iori pointedly. "It's bound to be better over there anyway."

"Well," said Miyako haughtily, "Isn't it always good to compare? Like, if it's better over here or better over there…" Takeru sniggered.

"When in Rome, do as Romans do," recited Hikari, clearly in agreement with Iori. "When in Japan, eat as Japanese eat."

"Not fair, you guys are all ganging up on me…! Besides, are you sure Wallace-kun even likes things like sushi?"

"It is impossible to _not_ like sushi," said Iori matter-of-factly.

The subway car pulled to their stop, jerking as it did so. Takeru turned slightly green, but as he had eaten nothing all day, the wave of nausea was replaced by a fit of coughing. He took several large gulps of air to steady himself as Miyako, Iori, and even Hikari looked on worriedly.

"For the last time, I'm fine, okay? Stop looking at me like I'm going to collapse or something…"

Iori noted, "You might, since you're not taking care of yourself…"

"Thanks," replied Takeru darkly. "Real supportive."

"Back into the cold," said Miyako, gritting her teeth as the group left the subway station.

They quickly flagged down a taxi, riding unceremoniously to the airport, where Motomiya Daisuke and Ichijouji Ken were already waiting.

"Daisuke, Daisuke, they're here!" A blue and white Digimon jumped up and down excitedly. The fact that Miyako, Iori, Hikari, and Takeru were able to see it amidst the bustle of the airport was proof that Chibimon could jump disproportional to his small height.

"You're late, you're late!" reprimanded Daisuke, waving his arms frantically as his friends came up the terminal.

"Hello everyone, and Happy New Year," said Ken, surreptitiously cutting in front of Daisuke. From his arms Wormmon, a green wormlike Digimon, jumped to greet Upamon, Tailmon, Patamon, and Poromon.

"Ken-kun!" chirped Miyako happily as she latched herself to Ken's arm.

"What's the status of the flight, Daisuke-kun?" said Takeru. The huskiness of Takeru's disappearing voice made Daisuke's dark eyes narrow.

"Your voice sounds funny," said Daisuke.

"Not this again." Takeru sighed. He took a deep breath. "Long story short: Losing voice, sore throat, probably just a bad cold, etc. Yes, I'm okay; no, I don't need to go home or anything."

"Would be better if you just stayed home," chimed Patamon.

"Put a sock in it, Patamon," said Takeru wearily, tired of repeating the same broken record over and over.

"It's too bad you're sick," said Ken sympathetically. "Especially on a holiday."

"I'll manage," said Takeru with a soft smile. "By the way, Daisuke-kun, you never answered my question…"

Daisuke looked utterly perplexed for about a moment, tension building as the rest of the group waited for him to answer. "Sorry, what was your question again?"

"Flight status?"

"Oh right! It landed."

"When exactly, Daisuke-kun?" said Hikari.

"Like… ten minutes ago or something? I just heard it on the intercom."

"That means we're not late! He still has to go through customs and baggage check…" cried Miyako indignantly. "You little monkey, waving your arms around like an idiot and shouting, and embarrassing all of us…!"

"_Warui, warui,_ it won't happen again Miyako-sama…" Daisuke took several steps backward as Miyako glowered menacingly at him. "Ken, control your girlfriend!"

The entire group laughed raucously. They started making their way to the terminal Wallace was to exit from. Takeru hung back, still a little disappointed that Hikari seemed fine, if a little jittery in his presence. But just way _too_ normal. She did not seem eaten up like he was, she was not acting uncharacteristically sarcastic like he was, and she certainly was healthy as a horse. He lagged behind the others slightly; he really was fading fast. But after stubbornly admitting he was just fine (multiple times), he was not about to admit so before Wallace was even officially in Japan, and not before he could talk to Hikari seriously and one-on-one. He sat, catching his breath, while the others loitered nearby in the terminal.

"He's going to be staying at your place, right Daisuke-kun?" said Hikari.

"Yeah, with Jun away on vacation still with Kido Shuu-san, her bedroom is free…"

"How long has she been with Jyou-san's older brother now?" asked Miyako.

Daisuke raised a brow. "Shouldn't you know? Isn't your sister dating Jyou-san?"

"Momoe-neechan doesn't tell me anything, so I wouldn't know…"

"Didn't you tell me that Shuu-san and Jun-san were together for what, like two years?" said Ken.

"Oh yeah… Now I remember. Such a long time! So romantic. Do you think we'll end up like that, Ken-kun?"

"_Maa, na…" _said Ken. He genuinely looked contemplative, which took Miyako aback, expecting an outright 'yes' or 'of course!'

"Hey!" whined Miyako playfully. "You should have more confidence in us…"

Hikari and Takeru, unbeknownst to the others, were both squirming. All of this talk about love and relationships was making them uncomfortable. Without warning, Iori suddenly stood up and pointed. "There he is! Wallace-san!"

Sure enough, the American, looking relatively relaxed, began to emerge from a crowd of people departing customs. A Digimon hung on his shoulder; the Digimon was rabbit-like, with extremely long ears, striped, spiked, and green at the tips. Wallace was built along the same vein as Takeru, with the same color eyes and similar build, although Wallace was slightly shorter and stockier compared to Takeru's lanky basketball player form. His hair was also a whiter blonde, his complexion a trifle whiter. His expression radiated a slightly arrogant confidence. "Hey guys!" said Wallace with a wave, in easygoing English.

"Hi, Japanese partner Digimon," said Terriermon, also in English, leaping from Wallace's shoulder to greet the Japanese Chosen Children Digimon.

"_Hisashiburi,_ Gummymon!" said Chibimon happily, beginning to jump and down in excitement again.

"When in Japan, do as Japanese do!" said Daisuke, echoing Hikari, throwing an arm around his friend. "Now, let's hear some Japanese."

"You haven't changed at all; still the same height," said Wallace, dropping his tone to relatively impeccable Japanese. He looked past the deadpanning Daisuke at the girls and flashed a smile. "Now for Miyako and Hikari, however, that's a different story… Time has been good to the both of you, even though you two were already pretty before… You two look absolutely lovely." Always the smooth talker, Miyako and Hikari both smiled and blushed.

Daisuke finally reacted. "Well excuse me, pretty boy, but you're not going to be able to get away with that rudeness in Japan…! Especially not towards Hikari-chan!"

"Ah," sighed Wallace, "And I thought from the last time you visited that you were over Hikari…" Wallace laughed, facing Daisuke with a wink. "Just kidding. Long time no see, Daisuke."

"How was your flight, Wallace-san?"

"Really long," said Wallace automatically. "But alright, overall. The only reason I'm out so early is because I flirted my way through customs… The lady thought I was just some good-for-nothing American tourist, she was surprised at how good my Japanese is…"

"There was no _natto_ and Wallace was angry you see," piped up Terriermon. "And they almost put Gummymon in the cargo storage…"

"Modest as ever," snorted Daisuke.

"His Japanese really _is_ good though, Daisuke-kun, you have to admit…" said Takeru.

"Better than mine?" retorted Daisuke.

"Well, you are a native speaker, and you're being petty…"

Ignoring Daisuke, Wallace looked around at the rest of the group that had come to meet him. "And thanks for all of you for coming… Long time no see, Miyako, Hikari, Iori, Takeru…" His eyes rested on Ken. "I don't believe we've met before.

"Let me introduce you!" said Miyako enthusiastically. "Ichijouji Ken-kun, meet Wallace, an American we met after you stopped being the Kaiser…"

A flash; a look of suspicion, of anger. "Oh, so you're the Kaiser… Daisuke told me about you…"

"N-no!" said Miyako. "Don't mistake. Ken-kun has been on the good side for a long time, and all of the things he did as the Kaiser weren't even his fault…!"

"I see, so that's what it is," said Wallace, visibly relaxing. He held out his hand in greeting. "If a beautiful girl like Miyako says I can trust you, then I will."

Daisuke, from the sidelines, smirked. "That's her boyfriend you're looking at…"

Wallace flushed with embarrassment. "Oh…! Wow, sorry, I didn't know. Um…"

Ken, who had looked very confused up until this point, merely laughed. "It's nothing, really. Don't think too much of it." And the unspoken words were there as well; _don't think too much of what you just accused me of either_. After all, that part of Ken was long since passed on.

As soon as their hands touched to shake, something strange happened. The surrounding area grew dark, and Wallace's pocket began to glow with a golden light. "What the hell…?" A flash of white light traveled from his pocket to the other pocket, which suddenly felt heavy.

"What's going on?" wondered Iori.

"Who knows…" said Daisuke, assuming a defensive stance.

The others closed in around each other for support, their eyes transfixed to Wallace's glowing pocket. The glowing stopped, the area lit again, and the airport terminal came back into view. Wallace reached into his pocket and his eyes widened with shock. A purple D-3 stood in place of his regular original Digivice. "This… This isn't my Digivice…"

Hikari gasped. "It's like our D-3!" She quickly pulled out hers, a mirror image, but with a pale pink grip instead of mauve.

Wallace stared at the new Digivice with wonder. "My Digivice changed…?" He met Ken's eyes, but Ken was just as confused as he was. Wallace felt into his other pocket, and felt a D-Terminal. He pulled it out and stared at the screen, and a pixilated blob in the shape of an egg was in the middle.

"A Digimental?" said Takeru, peering in closer for a look. "Oh yeah, that's right, you possess one…"

Daisuke made a face. "But what Wallace has is a golden Digimental; it shouldn't be so easy for him to contain it in a D-Terminal like this…"

"There has to be a reason why it changed," said Iori.

"I wish I knew, but it is kind of nice to be like you guys now," Wallace admitted. "I can brag now, because I'll be the only DigiDestined on the North American continent with a D-3…"

"DigiDestined?" Takeru echoed.

"Oh, right, in Japanese it's _Erabareshi Kodomo-tachi_. Well in English speaking countries, we're called DigiDestined. Stupid, I know, but Mimi came up with it a long time ago and it kind of stuck…"

Miyako looked at the surroundings "Well, we can't just stay here and sit around and think… People are starting to give us weird looks." The world knew a lot about Digimon, but it was still strange to see a bunch of things that looked like stuffed animals that were supposed to be stuffed animals play with other stuffed-animal like creatures. No matter how educated the word population was about Digimon, it was still weird. Apparently Miyako was the only one who expressed a bit of self-consciousness, because everyone else was perfectly fine with continued loitering.

"Our Digivices changed because there was danger," said Hikari, habitually looking to Takeru, who was listening intently, preferring to listen respectfully as his illness made it slightly more difficult to contribute. It was the first time in a while that they caught each other's eye. She blushed slightly and turned pointedly away. At that instant, her cell phone began to vibrate from inside her pocket. She pulled it out, saw it was from her brother, and excused herself from the rest of the group.

"Danger?" said Miyako, repeating Hikari's sentiment. "The only real 'danger' we've had was on Valentine's Day a few years back, with Boltmon…"

"Don't forget what happened in the states the summer of that year, too," said Wallace, catching Daisuke's eye, who grunted, nodded, and looked away. Daisuke could recall the incident where he thought he was really in love with a girl, who just turned out to be a very lonely Digimon… He was unable to keep Nat-chan's promise; he couldn't find her partner, she had not hatched from the egg that he, Wallace, and Mimi found at the scene. Wallace and Daisuke didn't see each other often at all due to the distance between New York and Tokyo, but Wallace knew that to this day it still cut Daisuke up inside.

Iori's face was twisted in concentration. "All of those incidences we were able to fix."

"Digivices don't randomly change due to the magic Japanese air. Mine surely didn't." The slight ominous feeling that had hung over everyone throughout the entire day had just become much more pronounced. The Occam's razor argument would have been so much easier; that it really was the Japanese air that caused Wallace's Digivice to change. But when it came to the Digital World, explanations always had to be more complex.

Prolonged thinking exasperated Daisuke, and he was already annoyed from Wallace's teasing and of the reminder of the summer they spent together in New York. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. He voiced the question once more. "What is this supposed to mean?"

Hikari returned, having finished her telephone call. Her cell phone was still millimeters away from her ear. The hand holding it was shaking, and her bottom lip trembled. "Trouble," she whispered. "Apparently, it means trouble."

* * *

_**To be continued…**_


	5. Required Power

**Where the Lost Ones Go

* * *

**

By,

Aestivate

* * *

**Chapter Five: Required Power

* * *

**

When Ryou first came to, he was distinctly aware that he could not move, could barely see. The smells and sights and sounds were all different, all wrong; this wasn't his bedroom. The damp smelled kind of wild, as if he were outside, and above him a canopy of trees loomed, allowing little light to hit him. It was eerily beautiful, but not a place where he would usually sleep. Maybe he was in a hotel which is why he was in such an unfamiliar setting… Something whirred in his ears and he shut his eyes again, lulled by the drone.

When Ryou came to a second time, he shot up into a sitting position and was almost knocked unconscious again, excruciating pain reverberating throughout his body. He was in a forest, a murky and relatively still one. He was aware that the clothes he had been wearing were stained with grass, and were slightly damp. He had been lying on a bed of leaves. _How long have I been sleeping here?_ And yet for some reason, he hadn't felt that he'd been sleeping, but something else…

For the second time in a matter of seconds, Ryou was about to pass out. Dread filled his stomach, mixed with a stinging ache. _No, no, no, no_, _no, no._ "No, no, no, no, no…" He was hugging himself; his eyes squeezed shut, rubbing his arms, trying to rub feeling back into his quickly numbing body. "No, no, no, no…" The rhythm of his disbelief grew louder, quicker, more ferocious. "NO, NO, NO!" He gave a strangled yell, which seemed to echo for miles, and birds flew overhead in the distance. He was panting now, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.

_Oh god…_He remembered. How he remembered. How vividly, clearly, soundly he remembered. _Oh god, oh god, what have I done?_ He was lifting his arms now, towards the break in the canopy, calling out to a higher power; something he'd never believed in but needed the comfort of now. His breathing was still coming out in shallow gasps, as he was assailed by the memories…

_Ryou, from his perch, could only stare. As Ruki's eyes widened, her expression changing from irritation and worry to fear and foreboding, his own vision was leaving him quickly, replaced by purple-black, a living purple-black, one that seemed to radiate darkness, blacker even than the snow-covered sky. The process had begun. Midnight._

_He was being swallowed into that darkness, and he tried to open his mouth to speak, to get her to not come closer, to not worry, to remember him, anything, but he could not. Cyberdramon was silent as well. And something was drowning her screams out, but from his failing vision he could see her form his name, the word, desperately on her lips, over and over, but to no avail._

_With the last of his vision, as the darkness swallowed him completely, stealing what remained of his consciousness, he could see the desperation in her bright, beautiful, amethyst eyes… His own eyes slid closed, tears escaping from the corners…_

He shivered, beside himself. "Ruki," he said at last in a voice that was so unlike from his usual refreshing confidence... The way he spoke was like that of a whimper, a small child crying out. "That's right, Ruki…" It dawned on Ryou at last that he was alone. _Where is she? What has happened to her? What has happened to them? _Cyberdramon and Renamon and especially Ruki, were nowhere in sight. The last time he remembered being with them was….

_They had been floating, and there was excruciating, all-consuming pain._

The forest he was in was dark, but it was not the absolute darkness, the evil, that he had felt before. His memories were still fuzzy, but he remembered that he could almost taste the black water. And then his body had failed him, feeling as if it had blown apart, bathed in an eerie white light…

He remembered a golden flash, and Ryou could remember nothing more other than the fact that was saved.

The quiet was starting to get to him now. "Ruki," he said again. The memory of that pain gripped his insides, synesthesia causing the semblance of it once more. He was still breathing irregularly, raw panic filling his lungs. He had to find her, had to…

He tried to rise, aware of a new sensation, one of weakness. His limbs would not heed his command. He swiped at his clothes clumsily; his arms felt stiff and heavy and vestigial as opposed to an important part of his body. As soon as he had reached his full height, he shakily leaned back against a nearby tree to catch his breath. "Damn…" he muttered. Why did he feel so weak? He shut his eyes… "No, don't sleep again…"

The tree, although looked like a tree, smelled like a tree, and grew leaves like a tree, did not feel like a tree. His eyes snapped open, the foreboding feeling settling in again. The tree trunk felt like it was made of plastic. The leaves he had been sleeping on (for how long, by the way?), on second glance, didn't seem to be real leaves either, covered in some sort of waxy cuticle.

In the Real World, the rule of thumb was "if it looks like a cat, acts like a cat, and smells like a cat, meows like a cat, then it is a cat." The only time this rule did not apply was...

"Fuck!" …To the Digital World. Her name spilled out of Ryou's lips again, again with the pleading, childish voice that he was still surprised came out of his mouth. "Ruki…"

With difficulty, he left the shelter of the strange tree. He took a few steps, his limbs still not functioning the way they should, were not cooperating. He probably only made it a meter before stumbling and falling. His knees and his palms, which he had used to break his fall, were hit with a searing pain.

He got up again, less gracefully, and after a single wince. Again, after making a short distance, he fell. "What the hell is going on...?" He couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment; after all, he was Akiyama Ryou, not only the Legendary Tamer, but the consummate survivor as well. He had never before succumbed to weakness, unsure of why his body was forcing him to now.

After the fifth time, he had gained some distance and (literally) fell upon a clearing. A break in the trees meant sunlight, and judging from the brightness that came from the clearing, there was a tiny water spring as well. The place was deserted. It was as if mind and body suddenly re-synced, because he suddenly had a raging thirst and began to run towards the water, which upon closer glance did not contain water at all, but...

"Sake?" he wondered aloud. It didn't matter. _Of course, this is _that _Digital World…_ He knelt towards the spring, the sickeningly sweet smell tinged with alcohol was quite to his tastes. The sake was cool and tasted wonderful. As it hit his stomach, there was a tingling warming sensation that was spread throughout his body. After several large gulps his thirst was very much satisfied, and energy renewed throughout his body. He could even feel the artificial flush rise in his cheeks. He had certainly not drunk enough to be intoxicated, yet the panic and weakness that he had felt just seconds before became less pronounced.

In their places, worry and loneliness set in. _Ruki, Cyberdramon, Renamon…If anything happened to them…_ Guilt wrenched his stomach, threatening to empty it of the alcohol he had just put in it.

He ran his fingers through his coarse hair. For some reason, he was feeling guilt that kind of felt like survivor's guilt. Not exactly the same, but very similar. But why? He tried to wrack his brains, to remember.

Ryou could feel her eyes on him, which for some reason, coupled with the smell of sake, made him relax. He deduced, most likely correctly, that he was in the Digital World that was connected to the universe of his birthing. He got here because it had called to him, and he was pulled back. That much he knew, although thinking about it made his stomach twinge uncomfortably again.

What he also remembered was a world of darkness, and of somehow escaping it. But how, and why? And up until that crucial moment (although he couldn't possibly be sure because he really did not remember), he had been beside her.

_What happened after?_

He looked around the little clearing, thinking that it was very pretty. It was the brightest part of the whole forest he thought, and it was the perfect location for him to think; the sounds of the forest were not as loud here, either.

The answer to his question came as his eyes rested on a certain location behind the clearing, back towards the forest, but on side different from which he had come. It would have been hidden if he had not thought to survey his surroundings.

His expression turned ashen, and shock caused all of the finally regulated breath to leave his body. Dropping to all fours now, he began retching, vomiting sick tinged with red. He was still heaving, even after his stomach had been emptied of all of its contents.

Wiping his mouth, he curled into a fetal position. The newly gained strength had been expelled from his body. He began to tremble, badly, but not with sobs. He could not turn away, would not will his eyes to cry.

His cerulean-colored eyes were simply glued to the spot, where Ruki's body lay.

* * *

After relaying her brother's message, Hikari tried her best to repeat the urgency that had been in her brother's voice and from Koushiro's in the background.

"We have to go to Koushiro's house," said Hikari, voice strained. "Onii-chan… He says… He says…" She trailed off, looking distraught.

"Hikari…" said Tailmon worriedly.

Hikari put her face in her hands, and Daisuke, who was nearest her, placed his hand on her shoulder as the others looked on worriedly. "Whatever it is, we'll do something about it," said Daisuke reassuringly.

"Hikari-chan, what did Taichi-san say?" said Miyako gently.

"We need to know details," said Iori. "And that was a short conversation anyway; you shouldn't be so upset since we really don't know many details yet…"

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that my Digivice changed?" added Wallace hopefully, even though this was something that had just happened moments before; Koushiro, or Taichi for that matter, knowing about it would be an impossibility.

"He wouldn't give me many details, he was being so cryptic. I just told you guys what he told me, that the balance off again… That Gennai had appeared before Koushiro-san this morning and said that there is a new danger… He was just telling me this morning that Koushiro-san had called him to come over… And it turns out that this was why…"

"Still, trouble in the Digital World?" said Ken. "Such a coincidence, since this is what we were just talking about…"

"There's no such thing as coincidence," replied Wallace automatically. He caught himself at the end. The words just tumbled out of him; he had no idea why he had said that.

"What do you mean by that, Wallace-kun?" asked Takeru, also surprised. "That's such an ominous thing to say…"

"I…" Wallace paused. Why _did_ he say that? "I really don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to say."

"In any rate, we should follow up with Taichi-san's request," said Iori impatiently.

"You're right, Iori," agreed Daisuke. "To Koushiro-san's place!" Always the leader and always the one to take action first, Daisuke led the way.

"Interesting vacation prospect," mused Wallace, seizing his suitcase with one hand. Terriermon leapt up onto his shoulder again.

"I know you don't believe in coincidence, but this is still fishy," whispered Terriermon. "The fact that the moment we arrive from America, there's danger or something…"

"I agree!" said Patamon, who had overheard Terriermon.

"Me too dagya," piped up Upamon from Iori's arms.

"If there really is danger, as Taichi says, we of course will be the first ones to protect our partners," said Tailmon, always the mature one of the group.

"I agree with Tailmon's sentiment," said Poromon.

The other Digimon partners quickly agreed as well, forming the promise quickly and absolutely.

There was not even a guarantee if there was danger in the first place, because as Iori pointed out, there was still little knowledge and that all Hikari and Taichi exchanged really was a cryptic request.

Yet the apprehensive atmosphere said otherwise, as the group anxiously made its way to Izumi Koushiro's.

* * *

She wasn't breathing. But she was warm, Ryou noticed, when he touched her hand. He still felt oddly out of tune with himself; what the hell had happened?

_Is she dead?_ Ryou thought wildly for a split second. _How can she be, she's so warm…_But her chest was not rising nor was it was falling. On quick inspection of her pale face, no air was going in and out of her nostrils. She had a shadowed look on her face. A look of horror, of pain. Her eyebrow was creased. She was pale. Too pale.

_God, please don't let her be dead. It's my fault, my fault if she is._ "What the fuck do I do? Shit, shit, shit… Ruki, wake up… Christ, why can't I be stronger?!"

Ryou had never learned CPR. But he knew the theory.

* * *

"Taichi-san, I request that you please calm down!" cried 16-year old Koushiro, instinctively using his full body to shield his precious computer monitors. "Hikari-san stated that she and her companions would arrive as presently as possible, so there is no need to be impatient."

"We called her like an hour ago, though!" snapped Taichi impatiently. He had risen to his full height, his arm outstretched, and his fingertips enclosed around his Digivice. "Gennai-san wants us over there _now_, unless you've forgotten!"

"I am aware of this fact!" responded Koushiro. "But Gennai-san also requested that the younger of us go as well! And besides, Hikari-san-tachi are coming from the airport… And our Digivices do not possess the capability of opening Digital gates, _unless you've forgotten!"_

Hearing his own words spat back at him, Taichi dropped his arm and visibly relaxed. He obediently sank back onto Koushiro's bed, as Koushiro as well dropped back into his swivel chair.

As if on cue, they both heard banging on the door, and Daisuke's unmistakable voice. "Koushiro-san! Is anyone home?"

Koushiro quickly let them all in. "Daisuke-kun, all of you, I am very grateful that you consented to come," he said with a gracious smile, stepping aside. "I will prepare some snacks, please go ahead and go into my room. Taichi-san has been… ah… waiting."

"So polite…" Wallace murmured as he and his friends filed in.

"Wallace, shoes!" hissed Terriermon in English.

"Right, right, Japan…" Wallace removed his shoes, and with a pang, suddenly realized how tired he was. He fought down a yawn.

"You okay?" said Terriermon worriedly.

"Jet lag," Wallace responded, the last to enter Koushiro's room, which was small but bright. The walls were bare a stark white, and light from snow and sun filtered in through the window.

The others were all sitting on the floor in a circle; Wallace took a place next to Miyako. He noticed that there was not much in it, except for a bookshelf stacked with books, even several in different languages, and a single computer desk with a whopping four monitors stacked on top of each other on it. There was also a small, closed, new-edition Pi-book to the left of these monitors, and to the left of that a twin bed with white sheets, where a tall person with messy brown hair and unmistakably similar features to Hikari shot up from eagle-spread, also unmistakably Yagami Taichi.

"_There_ you are," said Taichi exasperatedly, rounding on his sister. "You said you'd get here right away!"

"We couldn't help it if we tried, the subway was late and we had to wait for one that was big enough to accommodate all of us…" said Hikari exasperatedly.

"Then why didn't you take a taxi or something?"

"We don't have that kind of money, onii-chan…" said Hikari fearfully, staring back at the crazed look in her brother's eyes.

"Taichi-san being so nervous can only mean that something is really wrong…" said Iori. He looked up at the white ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

"Seems so," said Takeru. He was leaning against the wall behind the bookshelf; the brightness of Koushiro's room was making his headache more pronounced. He blinked to Hikari's direction fleetingly, where she was still bickering with her brother. Daisuke had joined in on the fray, although not exactly helpful since he did; after all, idolize Taichi no matter how unreasonable the _senpai _was being.

Hikari caught his eye and she looked away quickly; it was all too much. His head spun. He leaned his head against the bookshelf and shut his eyes, opening them again when he felt Patamon land in his lap.

"Takeru, feeling okay?"

He didn't have a chance to answer (actually, he just didn't want to lie) when Koushiro came in with a tray full of yokan and mochi and cups with steaming tea. "New Year treats," he said, setting the tray down as the Digimon pounced.

"No, thank you," said Takeru as Miyako offered him one of the salvaged mochi.

She made a face. "You really aren't eating anything, how stubborn. You're not going to get well this way…"

"Speaking of which," said Koushiro, removing one of the mugs from the tray. "Takeru-kun, here's something for you special. You were coughing when you came in..."

Grateful, Takeru took a careful sip, wincing slightly as hot tea met burning throat. "What's in here?" he said, coughing and sputtering.

"A bit of ginger always helps," said Koushiro with a smile.

He continued to pass the mugs around, until it was apparent that there was none for Wallace. "Oh, right, I had forgotten! I've been distracted…" Koushiro exclaimed. He took the mug he had been holding for himself, and held it out to Wallace. "You're a Chosen Child from America, if I am not mistaken. If I recall, it was your Digimon that caused the… ah… incident a few summers back. It's still an honor to finally meet you," said Koushiro, saying the last sentence in measured and heavily accented English. "I must admit that I had forgotten the reason why Daisuke-kun and the others had gone to the airport…

"It's nice to meet you too," said Wallace in his nearly flawless Japanese. He took the mug from the flabbergasted Koushiro, grinned, and sipped.

Quickly, Koushiro regained his composure, and settled in his usual spot in the swivel chair. Brother and younger sister stopped their bickering at once, and the entire room fell silent (minus the Baby 2 Digimon still attacking the tray of sweets), and the younger Chosen Children leaned in apprehensively as Koushiro cleared his throat to begin speaking.

"To all of you, best regards for the New Year, and thank you very much for coming. I'm pretty sure that Taichi-san had debriefed you slightly about the situation, but now I will recite the full story as I am told by Gennai-san…"

* * *

Koushiro had thought he was dreaming when he heard a thick Kansai accent coming from his computer. "Koushiro-han, Koushiro-han, wake up!"

He shot up from his bed, having realized who the Kansai accent belonged to. "Tentomon!" He immediately leapt from his bed and sat in the signature swivel chair. "Long time no see… Happy New Year… Or actually, not really, since you were in the Real World a few days ago for Ichijouji-san's Christmas party…" Koushiro smiled, having believed that Tentomon appeared before him to simply chat.

"Koushiro-han, I would like to talk to you about these things, but this really is not the time." Tentomon's graveness was unnerving.

A tall, cloaked figure appeared behind the ladybug-like Digimon. The cloaked man had very human features, but at the same time was neither Digimon nor human. He had spiked hair and clear blue eyes. The only slight appearance flaw was the man's hooked nose. The handsomeness was completely unlike Gennai's old form, one that took the appearance of an ancient man, still complete with the hooked nose. "Happy New Year, Koushiro-kun." The greeting, though amiable in intentions, was forced, grim.

"Gennai-san!" gasped Koushiro, his dark eyes widening. He had not expected this, and his mouth was agape in surprise. "I… It's nice to see you! But… why?"

"Something catastrophic happened in the Digital World last night," said Gennai seriously, getting straight to the point. Gennai had moved on from the formalities rather quickly.

"Really?!" exclaimed Koushiro. "What do you mean by catastrophe?"

"_Ankoku no sekai oboeteimasu ka?"_

"The 'Evil World…' The 'Dark World' that runs in tandem with the Digital World. Yes, I remember it." Koushiro's eyes widened. "Why do you mention it?"

"You are aware how your world, this world, that world, and all other worlds all run in parallel tandem with each other, correct?"

"Well, not really parallel… The worlds all follow certain paths, which can be influenced by other worlds. Isn't that what you told me, Gennai-san?" said Koushiro, looking bemused.

Gennai's handsome face hardened. "Yes, it is. I'm glad you remember," but the tone of his voice did not reveal so. "Because it is true that dimensions, universes, and worlds influence each other, it is also true that they may overlap, yes?"

Koushiro's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he agreed with difficulty. "Indeed."

"This morning a village of Falcomon was completely obliterated. And that's not all, either."

"_What?!" _exclaimed Koushiro in shock, involuntarily jerking with fear. "Who would do such a terrible thing?"

"There are several SkullSatamon running rampant in the Digital World as we speak. They are going around defenseless Digimon villages and leveling them."

"For fun?" spat Koushiro, disgusted.

"They seem to be looking for something – or someone, as it would seem, from the ruthlessness that they have expressed. They boast of something else, as well."

"What do you mean?"

"I am sure you recognize the name SkullSatamon."

"Yes, that was a Digimon that was a part of the Daemon corps that attacked a few years a- …No, you don't mean…"

Gennai looked grim. "Yes, unfortunately I do. And there's more."

"More?" Koushiro echoed weakly. Then the pieces clicked and he opened his mouth in horror. "Daemon… the Dark Ocean… SkullSatamon… The Digital World… _This_ world…"

"I see you're beginning to put the puzzle together, Koushiro. I expect nothing less from the holder of the Crest of Knowledge. These Satamon did boast they were part of Daemon's corps."

"Do you know what the SkullSatamon are looking for?"

"No, but they say it's for something or someone that escaped. Whoever it is, good luck to them…" laughed Gennai bitterly.

"But we have to do something!" cried Koushiro. "The Daemon I remember was ruthlessly powerful. If he sent his corps to go look for something – or someone, as you said – then we need to help that someone."

"Which is why I contacted you, Koushiro."

_The power of the Chosen Children is needed again.

* * *

_

"Bastards," muttered Taichi as Koushiro finished his story. "Cowards. All of those innocent Digimon."

Koushiro responded with a curt nod, the look of disgust clear on his face.

"Daemon in power again… The thought of it scares me," said Hikari, suddenly looking very small.

"I thought we banished him to that world though!" Miyako cried angrily. Wallace peered at her quizzically, the name "Daemon" unfamiliar in his knowledge of Digital antagonists.

"Yeah, but he was laughing the entire time we did it…" said Iori. "It's been a very long time. Maybe Daemon has found a way to escape."

"Daemon… free… Who do you think he was looking for, Koushiro-senpai?" asked Ken, looking alarmed.

"No! He can't take you, Ken! I won't let them!" interjected Daisuke, having realized where Ken was going with his request.

"It does seem likely that he was looking for you, Ken-san," said Iori.

"The Daemon we remember was certainly very open with letting others do his dirty work. To think he would terrorize the Digital World just to find you, Ken-kun!" said Miyako. "Although it would probably be worse if he got back into the Real World, huh…"

"There _is_ the portal still unsealed on Mount Fuji…" said Taichi.

"Why is it worse?" interrupted Hikari. "The Digital World is just important!"

"That's not what I meant, Hikari-chan, I just meant that innocent humans would get in the way…"

"What about the defenseless Digimon that the SkullSatamon are – What's the term Gennai-san used – 'obliterated?' Are you saying that's not as bad?!" said Hikari, her voice rising with sparks of anger.

Miyako looked alarmed. The others exchanged glances at Hikari's uncharacteristic temperament. The only one who didn't look confused was Takeru, who merely frowned into his ginger water.

"I'm sure that's not what Miyako meant, Hikari…" said Wallace.

Hikari caught herself, and forced a grimace. "I suppose not. Sorry Miyako-san. It's the tension."

"I know you're scared," said Miyako relaxing. "I am, and I don't even know what's really going on…"

"None of us do," said Iori bitterly.

"The prospect of the Dark Ocean is certainly unnerving," added Ken. He shivered, beside himself. Miyako next to him stirred, closing her fingers around his. He peered at her for a moment, but she was not looking at him directly; she was determinedly looking at Koushiro, as if waiting for further information and instruction. Still, she squeezed his fingers. He returned the pressure best he could.

"Daemon… What does he want now?" said Daisuke. "Why couldn't he just stay at the goddamned place? It bet it's all dark and spooky, just like he is."

"That's right, Daisuke-kun, you've never been there…" said Takeru.

"No, but from the sounds of it, I've been somewhere similar." The room fell silent. This was the second time that day Daisuke had alluded to Nat-chan and Wallace, Mimi's and his summer full of nightmares. Everyone knew that Daisuke still doubted himself, still regretted, and ultimately, still felt guilty.

"In any rate, shouldn't it be our first plan of action is to scout the situation?" suggested Wallace. He was still bemused about the whole situation, but watching Daisuke's expression shift in such a curious manner finally made his curiosity break free. He sounded more excited than he had originally intended to show, as it would be the first time he was to go to the Digital World, after all. Color rose in his cheeks, his usual arrogance lost. "I mean, if the rest of you want to."

"I think that's what we're going to have to do," said Daisuke. "Do all of you agree?" Silent nods told him "yes."

"Taichi-san, I'm going to ask if you remain here with me to inform the others of the situation…"

Taichi let out a roar of protest. "Why?! If I call on Agumon he'll be here in a jiffy, and he can help fight, too… Those SkullSatamon fuckers… Before the kids got here, you told me that they attacked a Koromon village too…"

"Onii-chan, we can handle it… We won't fight unless it's absolutely necessary." Hikari rose stiffly from her sitting position, her legs having cramped, and touched her brother's hand softly to relax him.

He smiled crookedly and ruffled her hair. "Fine, okay, whatever."

"Sorry, Wallace-kun, and today was supposed to be your day, too…" said Miyako guiltily.

"Don't worry about it," said Wallace. He flashed a white grin at her. "It's A-okay!" he added in English.

"All of you will go then?" said Koushiro from his perch at the computer desk. He took his largest flat-screen computer monitor and turned it towards them, and the monitor suddenly glowed extremely brightly.

"Of course," croaked Takeru. He stood up as well, though with a lot less grace than he would on a normal day.

Hikari, for the first time since the group had arrived, caught Takeru's eye. She wore an unfathomable expression on her beautiful face. "Are you sure?"

Defensiveness. "Do you not want me to go or something?"

"Well, frankly, you can barely stand up. Will you be okay during the scout?" She said this with a certain twinge of coldness. "Having to support you might be more of a hindrance than a help, after all." What if we have to fight? What will you do in your condition?" She tried to amend her earlier tone with hastily added worry, but no one in the bedroom was convinced, least alone Takeru. Again, within a span of a mere few minutes, the atmosphere of the room hushed to uneasiness. The others exchanged glances, looking utterly bemused and uncomfortable.

Anger flushed over Takeru's fever flush, causing him to visibly redden to a shade similar to a tomato's. "I can take care of myself, thanks," he said, just as coldly. His gaze locked onto hers. It had been a long time since their conversation on their way to the airport, and a lot had been learned and a lot had happened since then. But the disbelief and hurt was still there, and Takeru felt it grip his chest as he stared into her pools of ruby. Their relationship had long since reached a point where they could convey whatever they wanted to each other without having to use any words. This time was no different. _It's funny how you're "worrying" about me now when before you seemed to not care about me at all. When my feelings didn't matter, and you decided that the best thing to do was ignore it all; pretend it never happened. Too bad it did, Hikari-chan. Too bad I'm around, Hikari-chan, because it makes you think about it._

She did not respond. The narrowing of her eyes made Takeru sure that his message had gotten across to her and she turned away. "Do what you want, Takeru," she said in an oddly forced voice. It was the first time that she had ever referred to him without the suffix –_kun_, and he was not the only one that noticed. Something had broken between them.

Iori was looking up at Takeru with a knowing but curious expression on his face, while Takeru was determinedly looking at his feet.

"Well… It's time to go, isn't it?" interjected Miyako, hastily cutting into the room's tension. "Normally it's my job, but how about we give Wallace-kun a go?" She pulled out her D-3 and resumed a usual "time to open the gate!" stance.

"Uh… Sure!" said Wallace, reaching into his pocket for his brand new Digivice as well.

"You stand like this, and like this…" She busied herself with his body position for an entire two minutes until she was satisfied. "Now, say loudly and clearly, Digital Gate Open!"

"Digital Gate Open!" Wallace echoed, and he almost recoiled as the monitor grew brighter and brighter… But he was oddly familiar with this light, and let it engulf him…

For Iori, Wallace, Miyako, Ken, Daisuke, Hikari, and Takeru, Koushiro's room suddenly began to spin and swirl, quickly becoming out of focus, as their bodies digitized and disappeared in a whirlwind of color and sound…

* * *

His lips tingled, and he felt heat on his face, beside himself.

Something curious had happened when he did it, and the deathly pallor seemed to have lessened, but only a little bit. But the look of pain was still there, and increased tenfold when she started breathing again, her chest falling rising up and down quickly as she took rapid, shallow breaths.

Not good. Her pulse was just as rapid, as he groped for her wrist again. She was starting to look agonized. Her body began to twitch as if she was having some sort of fit, and she began to jerk this way and that until her hand found his fingers that had been mere inches away from her wrist. As soon as their fingers brushed she visibly relaxed, now looking as if she were merely asleep, and Ryou gave a sigh of relief.

_Now what?_ Ryou took her small hand in his.

He focused on Ruki's face again. Her hair was splayed out around her head. He remembered that she did not have it bound the last time he remembered, although he could not be sure of how much time had passed, or even exactly what had happened. The red of her hair made it seem like her head was on fire, matched with the sickly pallor that still took the pigment out of her normally healthy complexion.

Ryou had to bring her somewhere safe. He stood up and then surveyed his surroundings once more. Yes, this was definitely the world he remembered. He had scoured this world many times once… When he had been a different person. His memory was as vivid as ever though naturally a little clouded. What the hell good was it being a "Legendary Tamer" when you couldn't even help a single person? All he had to do was just find help or somewhere to stay…

Ruki began thrashing again. Alarmed, Ryou bent and held her hand once more, and again, she relaxed. It didn't take Ryou much longer to realize that she was only relaxed if he was touching her. This complicated matters a bit. "Ruki, please wake up…" he begged, though clearly in vain. She did not wake; she didn't even stir. "DAMMIT!" He yelled. In the distance birds reacted to the noise and cawed as they rose into the air.

Something stirred from behind the clearing. "Ryou… Ryou, I found you!"

* * *

She was being chased. With her fox's agility, she was running, whipping through the trees, hoping they would provide her with just enough cover.

"Where is he, Renamon?" said her two pursuers, in singsong voices as they gloated, chasing her, gliding along with their dark wings and weaving around each other, each holding scepters. From the scepters they threw attack after attack.

"I don't know! I'm just an innocent Digimon! Why are you chasing?"

"Ah, but you're lying, Renamon. Daemon-sama knows, he always knows. Where are you hiding him? Just hand him over and I'll leave you and all of your pretty furs alone…" The croon at the end repulsed her.

"Shit," Renamon muttered. "I don't know, I don't know! Honestly, if I did, what makes you think I would tell you?"If she could just get away…

"So you're going to be difficult, are you, pretty?"

One of the attacks caught her in the leg and she stumbled and fell, and they closed in on her. Said one SkullSatamon, "Like they say, _die trying_."

* * *

_**To be continued…**_


End file.
